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/ 


> Z.9MS-S 

W05- 


AN 

ESSAY 


ON 

HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS; 



CONTAINING 

AN ORIGINAL VIEW 

% 


THE OPERATIONS OF MIND, 

SENSUAL AND INTELLECTUAL. 


BY JOHN FEARN. 

*» 


IT IS NOT WORTH WHILE TO BE CONCERNED WHAT HE SAYS OR THINKS, WHO SAYS OR 
THINKS only AS HE IS DIRECTED BY ANOTHER.- Locke. 



PRINTED BY D. COCK AND CO. DEAN STREET, SOHO; 

AND PUBLISHED BY MESSRS. LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN, 

PATERNOSTER ROW. 

1811 . 












I 


































*>«>• 




















i » 







I 















EPISTLE TO THE READER 


Pe r ii a p s I may find it very difficult to offer a satisfactory apo¬ 
logy, for presuming to amuse myself with matters concerning which 
an ordinary person can have no better than a very illusive apprehen¬ 
sion ; especially, as in venturing my ideas there will be incurred the 
penalty of writing in violation of rules. I shall not, however, to de¬ 
precate vengeance, obtrude an enumeration of the accumulated 
disadvantages under which this view of the subject is produced; 
because those who are good, will not inflict vengeance on those 
who intend good. 

If the leading Hypothesis upon which I rest shall be found sup¬ 
ported by facts, it will support the many deformities of my workman¬ 
ship. And, if the Hypothesis itself is unfounded, all the ornaments 
of language, and aids of erudition, though I should have been happy 
to have used them, could not have much enriched a baseless struc¬ 
ture. Such aids would have tended not at all to the end which I here 
aim at, that of establishing a foundation for useful inquiry. 

It is well known that from the earliest point of recorded time, 
down to the present hour, Man has existed in a state of ignorance, and 




11 


EPISTLE TO THE READER. 


anxiety, concerning the nature of that internal principle which moves 
him ; the collective and successive labours of philosophers having 
deplorably failed to procure him any satisfactory knowledge on the 
subject. 

Throughout the dark region to be explored, one only tangible point 
presents itself, like the pinnacle of a rock topping the surface of a 
fathomless deep. The extreme narrowness of this ground has re¬ 
duced men, of every period, to some agreement at the outset; and 
beyond this, when genius, and science, have attempted to advance, 
they have fallen into devious paths; and have been equally, and 
utterly, ingulphed. 

This center of an agreement that extends but to so small a dis¬ 
tance, arises from the fact, that Mind and Body re-act upon each 
other, the effects of which go to satisfy us as to some few questions 
relative to the Mind’s existence. Many have conceived it to be some¬ 
thing distinct from the Body ; and, for its substance, try to imagine 
some sublime Reality, which they hope is superior to the mutations 
of matter; and which, at any rate, they believe to be the sole thipg 
that feels, whatever is inflicted. Perhaps none deny that it is the 
Principle which immediately moves the Body in all voluntary 
motions; and beyond this, all seems either delusion, or darkness. 

Cheerless as this prospect must be confessed, yet the luminous 
reasonings of our own times have informed us that, in truth, we are 
in a state of ignorance much more deplorable than was, perhaps, 
imagined by the earliest inquirers. And if man be given to vanity, 
he has a mortifying lesson in finding, at this day, that it was neces¬ 
sary he should make considerable progress in such knowledge as is 


EIMSTLE TO THE KEAJJEK. 


m 


permitted him, before he could be sufficiently enlightened to descry 
that dark boundary which proclahns all pursuit vain ; and decides, 
' that on this important subject he not only is ignorant, but is doomed 
to remain so. 

Such a prospect may have little terror for those who have previ¬ 
ously grown upon the sure foundation of faith ; but, as many believe 
not at all, beside millions of believers who still have doubts ; and as 
those, even who are fixed, must surely be glad to reconcile what 
they believe, to what they experience ; all men are deeply concerned 
in an inquiry concerning the Mind. 

Now, I know it to be a home truth , that when an ill-fated ship 
falls into unknown regions, and eminent peril; and, when the skil¬ 
ful but distracted pilot proclaims his ignorance, and despair, the 
whole crew will act under the impulse of one common danger. 
Respect for persons will pardonably vanish; the meanest zvill ad¬ 
vance an opinion, if he has one; and, the conscious jeopardy of the 
whole will secure to such opinion, at least a momentary attention. 

In a case, therefore, so confessedly hopeless as the present, if I 
happen to be struck with a view of the subject which has until now 
escaped observation, I cannot but think it a duty to suggest it. I 
shall, therefore, submit to whatever sacrifice may be necessary te> 
advance it for the consideration of men of different opinions: in 
doing which, a certain extent of publicity becomes unavoidable, and 
I must abide the result. 

I do not overlook the peril of stepping upon that hallowed ground 
appropriated, exclusive^', to the use of learned men; nor the oppo¬ 
sition which existing opinions, and interests, will doubtless present 


IV 


EPISTLE TO THE READER. 


to such an enterprize. Even if I should have fallen upon a truth, 
in any part of my search, it must be expected that some one may 
chuse to “ heat the furnace one seven-times more,” to agonise every 
vulnerable point; and, in such case, not to fear would be as sense¬ 
less ; as to shrink would be unworthy. I risk the chance, resting 
upon the motive; and, not presuming upon any higher claim, 1 hope 
no one will have either power, or inclination, to deprive me of this 
support. 

In all other respects I entreat the clemency of the reader. 


London , 

December 18 th, 1810. 


Vll 


OBJECT AND DESIGN. 


The grand object of inquiry, in the present day, I take to be, not 
whether Mind be Matter, or of some other Substance but, whether 
Mind inheres any substance whatever. 

Proper Materialism seems to rest on the Hypothesis that Brain' 
gives Consciousness, merely in virtue of its organisation; and includes, 
that a change of medullary substance effects no change of subject. 

This supposition is opposed by Immaterialists, on very rational 
grounds ; but at the same time, they suffer their Hypothesis to 
labour under the insuperable difficulty of mental Noti-extension. 

In this state of the question whoever shall show that Mind ope¬ 
rates by Extension, distinct from Brain ; and, on the other hand, that 
Brain cannot be the Agent of thought, should, I imagine, give a new 
turn to the inquiry ; and afford an interest to the scheme of Inuna- 
terialism which otherwise it cannot so extensively possess. 

Some years ago, being then in a very remote Country, I was struck 
by the persuasion, that all objects of Consciousness are governed in the 
Mind by a Law of our nature, the regular operation of which has never 
claimed attention.. Contemplating this, I was led to an Hypothesis, 




OBJECT AND DESIGN. 


viil 

round which, I think, all known conscious facts rally, operating 
strickly under the Law, which in these papers I have attempted to 
illustrate. 

In prosecuting this intention, it will appear that I might, to the 
requisite matter here contained, have added of speculation, compari¬ 
son of opinions, and anecdote, a considerable mass, without any real 
utility. Contrary to this, I have purposely contracted every branch of 
the subject, and have rejected every thing that did not appear abso¬ 
lutely necessary to afford a tolerably clear view of it. My aim 
herein being, if possible, the concentration of strength, to afford 
others, conviction of that, which has afforded conviction to myself. 

I am in the full assurance that I shall not avoid error, nor, per¬ 
haps, escape gross inconsistency. The subject, at best, has ever been a 
mere game of Blind-man-Buff; and though there be many to cry 
out, there are none , with respect be it s^id, who have not stumbled when¬ 
ever it has been their turn to grope. My mind is, therefore, made 
up to suffer all the correction that I may be justly found to deserve, 
and, if at any time, I appear to express myself with confidence, I 
beg it may be considered as only marking the emphasis of my own 
argument, but always with deference to those who arc competent 
to point out wherein I am wrong. 


IX 






GENERAL CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER I. 

Introductory Speculation . ’••••••.. 


Page 

3 


CHAPTER II. 

Of the Dependence of the Mind upon the Body. 12 

CHAPTER III. 

Of Consciousness, and of the Distinct Existence, and most General Operations, of the Human 


Mind . 16 

CHAPTER IV. 

Of the Susceptibility of the Mind. 33 


CHAPTER V. 

Of the Motivity of the Mind. 


4 7 


CHAPTER VI. 

Of the Co-operation of Mind and Body. 57 

CHAPTER VII. 

Of the Capacity of the Mind for Synchronous Perceptions . 74 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Of the Physical Structure of the Mind... 82 

CHAPTER IX. 

Of the general Nature of the Flexure, and Repulsion of the Mind ... • • *. 9 2 

b 
















X 


GENERAL CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER X. 

Page 

Of the Constitution of Mind different from Matter .. • • • 97 

CHAPTER XI. 

Of the conscious division of Affections into Pleasant and Painful.• * • •. 101 

CHAPTER XII. 

Of the Nature, and Physical Operation of sensible Pleasure and Pain. 109 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Of the Nature of Will, and its Species... 128 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Of Hope and Fear, and of the Nature and Operation of Intellectual Pleasure and Pain. 129 

CHAPTER XV. 

Of Extraordinary, and Ordinary, cases explained on the Hypothesis «f a Spherule Mind .... 128 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Retrospect of the subject advanced... 146 

CHAPTER XVII. 

Of the External Senses in general... 148 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Of the relative Vividness, Precision, and Durability of Ideas. jgO 

CHAPTER XIX. 

Of Touch, Taste, and Smell.-. 174 

CHAPTER XX. 

Of the Hear . 176 

CHAPTER XXI. 

Of Sight.... .... 183 













GENERAL CONTENTS. 


XL 

CHAPTER XXII. 

Page 

A second Retrospect of the subject advanced. 198 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

Of Memory .... 200 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

Of the Incapability of the Brain to perform Mental Functions.21S 

CHAPTER XXV. 

Of the radical Opposition of the Spherule, and Vibratory Hypotheses . 23 6 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

Of the Instrumentality of the Brain... 240 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

On Dream and Reverie... 251 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

The Conclusion • ... 26‘2 









. 












4 




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: > :■ 























Xlll 

PARTICULAR CONTENTS 


CHAPTER I. Page 

Introductory Speculation 3 

CHAPTER II. 

Of the Dependence of the Mind upon the 

Body ------ 12 

CHAPTER III. 

Sect. 1 . Consciousness - - - 16 

2. Existence of Mind - - 18 

3. General Operations - - 19 

4 . Will, and its Office - - ib. 

5. All Knowledge is Feeling - 21 

6 . Imagination is Feeling. - - 23 

7 . Thought exists with Motion - 27 

8 . All Feelings co-incident on Mind ib. 

CHAPTER IV. 

Sect. 1. Thought exists with Motion - 33 

2. Modes of Feeling - - 34 

3. Sensation - - - - 35 

4. Interest ... - ib. 

5. Memory - - - - 37 

6 . Understanding - - - 38 

7. Passion - - - - 40 

8 . Fear universal and necessary - 41 

9 . Summary of Feelings - - 45 

CHAPTER V. 

SECT. 1. Motives to Action - - - 47 

2. Actual Power of Mind - - 50 

3. Voluntary, and Incontinent Acts 52 

4. Reason and Instinct one - 54 

CHAPTER VI. 

SECT. 1. Affections - - - * 57 

2. Flexibility of Mind - - 59 

3. Partition of Affections - - 6 l 

4. Play of Affections - - - 62 

5. Law of Interest in Affections - 63 

6 . Nature ©f Interest - - - 65 

7. Weak Interests - - - 66 

8 . Power «f Interest ... ib. 


Page 

Sect. 9. Accidental and legal Cases - 67 

10 . Gradual process of the Law - 69 

11 . Extraordinary Interests - - 72 

CHAPTER VII. 

Sect. 1 . An Idea is a Groupe of Ideas - 74 

2 . Proof of Synchronous Vision - 76 

3. Synchronous Ideas often nume¬ 

rous - - - - 78 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Sect. 1 . Physical Inference concerning 

Mind - - - - 82 

2 . Occasion of-the Hypothesis - 83 

3. Foundation of the Hypothesis - 86 

4. The Hypothesis - - - 89 

5. Lesser Suppositions - - ib. 

6. Capacity, and Region, of Percep¬ 

tion - - - - 90 

CHAPTER IX. 

Sect. 1. Physical Deformity of the Mind 92 

2. Physical Tension of Mind - 93 

3. Speculation - - - - 94 

CHAPTER X. 

Of the Constitution of Mind different from 

Matter - - 97 

CHAPTER XI. 

Sect. 1 . Interests continually vary - 101 

2 . Intelligence and Interest distinct 

conscious Facts - - - 104 

3. Motions change Interests, and ex¬ 

ist with Tension and Flexure 105 

4. Peculiar capability of a Spherule 107 


CHAPTER XII. 

Sect. 1 . Sensible Pleasure - - - 109 

2 . Physical postures of Mind - 111 

3. Physical process of Pleasure - 112 

4. Pleasure succeeds Pain. - - 117 

5. Uneasiness the ordinary State - 120 



XIV 


PARTICULAR CONTENTS. 


Sect. 

6. Pleasure changed to Pain 

Page 
- 122 


7. Pain changed to Pleasure 

- 123 


8. Nature of Pain 

- 126 

0 f the 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Nature of Will, and its Species 

- 128 

Sect. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

1. Hope .... 

- 129 


2. Despair and Hope 

- 130 


3. Fear .... 

* 132 


4. Pleasure and Pain differ in kind, 


not degree - - - 

- 134 


5. Remarks and Inferences - 

- 135 

Sect. 

CHAPTER XV. 

1. Extreme mental Occupancy 

- 138 


2. Physical Inferences 

- 141 


3. Various Cases of Occupancy 

- ib. 

CHAPTER XVI. 
Retrospect of the subject advanced 

- 146 

Sect. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

1. Miscellaneous 

- 148 


2. Order of the Senses 

- 149 


3. Hypothesis of Undulation, and 

Succession - - - 153 

4. Physical Analogy of Undulation 156' 

5. How the Senses differ in Feelings 158 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Sect. 1 . Interest gives vivid Ideas - 160 

2. Interest gives Retention - 165 

3. Visual Ideas not correct - 171 


Page 

Sect. 4. Physical process of Sight - 187 

5. Evidence of Visual Undulations 190 

6. Sight and Touch from one Im¬ 

pulse - 191 

7* Sight may play on Touch - 193 

8. Interest of Succession in Sight - 194 

9 . Reflection on the Sense of Sight 195 

CHAPTER XXII. 

A second Retrospect of the subject ad¬ 
vanced - - - - - 198 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

Sect. 1. Brain no Agent of Memory - 200 

2. Interest gives Memory - - 202 

3. Memory is passive, and exists 

with Motion - 203 

4. Memory is revived Feeling - 207 

5. Retention not from Vibration - 20 9 

6. Association not from Vibration - 212 

7. Memory is G ratuitous - - 215 

8. Successive Memory - - ib. 

9. Reflection on Memory - - 216 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

Sect. 1. Two Schemes opposed - - 21S 

2. Doctrine of Vibrations indicates 

Materialism - 220 

3. Sensations by the Brain physi¬ 
cally inconceivable - - 222 

4. Brain not employed in complex 

Sensations or Ideas - - 225 

5. The Nerves form synchronous 

distinct Impulses » 226 

6. Association is by Interest, not by 

Vibration - 229 

7. Brain cannot operate as Mind - 232 

8. Nerves support the Spherule 

Hypothesis - 233 

9 . Doctrine of Vibrations annihilates 
Mind .... 234 

CHAPTER XXV. 

. 1. Vibrations in a Substance, form 

Undulations on its Surface - 236 

2. Mind reciprocates by Undula¬ 
tions of its Surface - - 237 

3. Contrast of Hypotheses - - 238 


CHAPTER XIX. 

Sect. 1. Touch - - - . - 174 

2. Taste and Smell - - 175 

CHAPTER XX. 

Sect. 1. Province of Hear - - - 176 

2. Capacity of Hear - - - 177 

3 . Interest of Succession in Hear - 178 

CHAPTER XXI 

Sect. 1. Province of Sight - - - 183 

2. Capacity of Sight - - - 184 

3 . Physical Analogy of Sight - 185 


Sect 





PARTICULAR CONTENTS 


XV 


CHAPTER XXVI. Page 

Sect. 1 . Pressure on Brain does not give, 

but destroys Consciousness - 240 

2. The Nerves unite at a central Ca¬ 

vity in the Brain ... 242 

3. Disposition of the Nerves favour 

the Hypothesis - 243 

4. Seat of Intellect is where the 

Nerves unite ... 245 

5. Hypothesis of an Elementary 

Body .... ib. 

6. An Elementary Body why requi¬ 

site .247 

7. The Pineal Gland ... 249 


CHAPTER XXVII. Page 

Sect. 1 . Absence of Sensation makes 

Ideas vivid - . - - 251 

2. Loss of Memory occasions Incon¬ 

sistency in Dreams - - 254 

3. Dreams rise from nervous Im¬ 

pulses * 258 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

The Conclusion ..... 262 
























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. 































































ADVERTISEMENT. 


The man of Science , who is already fixed in his speculative opinions 
concerning the present occult subject, is not expected to endure what 
he may deem objectionable in the introductory and early parts. He 
may, therefore, be better pleased to enter at once upon the Sixth , Se¬ 
venth , and Eighth Chapters ; and, after having lent his attention, far¬ 
ther on, to those practical statements on the Senses of Hear and Vi¬ 
sion, which I hope he may find not wholly unjust; he will, perhaps, 
with less disgust revert to what is speculative. When the account 
of Sensation has been viewed, I would particularly solicit attention 
to the Eight Conclusions in Chapter XXV. 

In taking up the subject, I certainly had no wish to affect no¬ 
velty of opinion ; but it is, however, humbly conceived, that the view 
herein taken, is almost wholly original. 

The order of the developement of our Feelings ; the extent of Syn¬ 
chronous Affections ; the processes of Pleasure and Pain ; the order 
of our external Senses ; the relative vividness and durability of Ideas; 
the Hypothesis of mental Undulations , containing the interest of suc¬ 
cession ; and several other points are, I imagine, altogether different 
from any former view of the subject. 

But beyond these, and by far the most prominent novel consi¬ 
deration, is the Law of Interest ; and the Hypothesis of the physical 
Structure of the Mind , founded upon this Law. Concerning these, I 
have only to say, that one appears to be as certainly a Law , as the 
other is only an Hypothesis : and, that the account of conscious 
operations, throughout, is totally a distinct consideration from the 
Hypothesis ; so that each should be judged by its separate claims, or 
demerits. 














' 


■ 























* . 















• 
















• 







































ESSAY 


ON 

HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


CHAPTER I. 

INTRODUCTORY SPECULATION. 

It is the opprobrium of the science of Mind, that no radical disco¬ 
veries are made therein, and one reason that has operated to prevent 
progress appears so evident, that whilst it is permitted to exist it 
may be no less than impossible to make so much as an attempt 
to penetrate our ignorance. 

J ustly has it has been observed, that in the Theories of Perception 
now extant, men have laboured under a grand error, in that while they 
have entertained a deep rooted belief of the immateriality of the 
Soul, they have, at the same time, been “ influenced by some general 
maxims of philosophising, borrowed from Physics,” which error, I 




4 


ESSAY ON 


ciiap. i. 


imagine, arises from this, that the conviction of the immateriality of 
the soul, includes, also, the supposition of its Non-ex tension. 

That inconsistency appears in every attempt to describe the ope¬ 
rations of a Non-extended Substance, (if any such there be,) as bearing 
any conceivable similitude to those of an extended one is, perhaps, 
certain ; but, while this is too striking to have escaped the remark of 
those who have given into it, a question arises, whether the most im¬ 
portant error does not lie in adopting a supposed mental property, 
which they were not under necessity to adopt; which is physically 
inconceivable; and, which proves an insuperable obstacle to dis¬ 
covery. I mean the supposed mental property of Non-extension. 

It must ever be vain to attempt reasoning beyond the range of 
conception. We are convinced, and constrained to believe, that the 
Human Mind, if it be any substance, and not a mere mode, is conti¬ 
nually operating upon, and suffering the operation of, the Body. 
But, we can have no conception of Action, without Motion of Sub¬ 
stance ; therefore, we are under necessity to infer, that Body and 
Mind reciprocate in some way, like two physical bodies. 

In reasoning thus (whether we conjecture right, or the contrary,) 
we are, at least, consistent with possibility in conception: and if we 
outstep this boundary, all is darkness. 

Supposing the Mind a substantial thing, existing distinct from the 
Body, if it be Non-extended it is beyond dispute we do not knozv, and 
perhaps cannot know , it to be so. The assumption, then, of this pro¬ 
perty is mere Hypothesis, which forbids inquiry; but, if the Mind 
has Extension, though we do not know it, yet, we may come to know 
it; and, the present supposition of it is, at least, as good as a suppo- 


CHAP. I. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


5 


sition of the contrary, with this grand advantage, that we may spe¬ 
culate upon the one, whilst utter silence is imposed by the other 
Hypothesis. 

It is agreed that all we know of the Substance of either Matter or 
Mind is merely relative. The one has apparent properties which 
our physical experience demands us to believe is incompatible with 
some apparent properties displayed by the other. We therefore ra¬ 
tionally conclude, that Substance of Matter is different from the 
Substance of Mind; without being able to afford ourselves even a 
guess as to what is the Substance of either. 

But our physical experience (just now appealed to) demands, that 
to enable two Substances to re-act upon each other, both must have 
the common property of Extension; and the authority for mental 
Immaterialism , and for mental Extension is thus one and the same , 
whereby these two properties are equally upheld, and joined; and 
this junction I am led to adopt; because the pretensions of these 
supposed properties are perfectly equal. Both of the highest autho¬ 
rity; and, what is more, they do not, upon examination , appear 
inconsistent. 

In this case I derive encouragement by considering that a proper 
Extension has been assigned to the Mind by men of approved erudi¬ 
tion; who, nevertheless, contended for its immateriality. The 
names of Dr. Clarke, and Dr. Price, are alone sufficient to claim a 
fair hearing to any positive argument that may be advanced on this 
Hypothesis; though no names can be expected to uphold it, if after 
proper investigation it shall be found unsupported. 

Here I will risk a conjecture, by the way, that though these re- 


6 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. I. 


spectable men assigned Extension to the Soul, I doubt not, they 
would have started at the proposition of a definitive shape , as much 
as will any man of the present da} r . And if I am right in this it 
shows, that men are afraid to look their own conceptions in the 
face, because finite extension must have figure. And thus are men 
kept from search after an Extended Mind, even though they must 
now begin to suspect that Matter is as attenuate as Mind can be. 

After all that has been advanced to the World upon this hitherto 
unprofitable subject, I take the abstract of the case to be, that Con¬ 
sciousness, Motivity, and permanent identity, (which last is neces¬ 
sary to enjoy the rewards of a future state.) All these, on various 
grounds, forbid us to admit that our Minds are made of the same 
sort of Substance with our Bodies ; which last are composed of par¬ 
ticles insensible, and, in themselves , inert; also which are continually 
going from us, and are replaced by foreign parts ; insomuch, that the 
Body I wore at twenty years of age, may actually form parts of 
many different human Bodies by the time I shall be sixty; and I 
may then die possessed of a Body (including Brain) that some years 
back made parts of the Bodies and Brains of other men. 

That matter is generally esteemed insensible, it is unnecessary to 
insist. But insensible, or sensible, would make nothing toward se¬ 
curing our identity, seeing that even the Brain must be continually 
liable to change. In proof of the last mentioned consideration, I 
shall just notice an extensive fact, which has impressed me the more, 
because I have been many years an eye witness of it. 

The great river Ganges, including its innumerable and far spread¬ 
ing branches, has, during some thousand years, been the common 


CHAP. I. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


7 


grave of the many millions of Hindoos who have successively 
swarmed on its banks; and their Bodies have thus furnished a conti¬ 
nual and luxuriant supply of food to the myriads of fish that are 
daily taken, in their turn, for the sustenance of the inhabitants. If 
a man has partaken of these fish during seventy years, I imagine 
it will be allowed, that if he then dies, his Body and Brain must 
consist of some parts that made parts of other human Bodies. 

The confusion of personal identity that must, physically, be infer¬ 
red from such facts, has not escaped the remark of Doctor Priestley, 
who found himself thereby driven to the supposition that the Brain 
of a man does not change its particles; upon which it is enough to say 
that he appears to have felt it so weak an Hypothesis that he, at 
length, preferably adopted the dismal supposition that Mind is but 
a mode; or that Consciousness is th z mere result of organisation; 
and does not inhere any Substance. 

Contrary to this, I not only suppose the Mind to inhere a Sub¬ 
stance , but, looking toward eternal justice, and concluding that 
Matter cannot preserve the requisite identity, I should on this 
ground, if there were no other, suppose that the Substance of Mind 
is not convertible into that of the Body. But, being in all cases 
limited by my conception, I know not by what reasonable autho¬ 
rity I am called upon to believe that concerning which I can have no 
thought whatever; that is, a Substance non-extended moving, and 
being moved by, a Substance that moves only by reason that it is 
extended. 

All that I can possibly mean, or perhaps wish by an immaterial 
Substance, is an immutable one; which shall unchangeably remain, in 


8 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. I. 


the Body, and elsewhere, safe from confusion of identity. I am 
not speculating in the vain view to throw any light upon the Sub¬ 
stance of the Mind; but only am led, along with the results of prac¬ 
tical observations, to state, briefly, the speculative probability of its 
Extension , and distinct existence. 

Here the force of prejudice needs no comment; and, if we have 
grown in the opinion of a non-extended Mind there is no proposition 
that will give rise to more disgust than that of an extended one. Even 
were it proved as grossly figured as a wheelbarrow we should receive 
the conviction with conscious reluctance; it therefore requires all 
the forbearance becoming an advocate of Non-extension, to grant his 
attention to the facts I shall advance, before he finally decides upon 
mere speculative opinions. 

With the Materialist, whose Hypothethis I more radically oppose, I 
shall at least have no such chimera to combat as that of Non-exten¬ 
sion. We shall encounter on fair physical ground, the only substantial 
ground that human nature can touch upon, and I ought to affect 
him if I can disprove a cerebral Mind. 

Without practical support, I should think any speculation how a 
distinct extended Mind may exist in the Brain of a man, to be the 
merest impertinence. But, if speculative and practical reasoning shall 
be found to lend light and strength to each other, I hope the very little 
that is here advanced may be permitted as introducing the subject. 

Concerning Mind, in the present state of knowledge, I suppose we 
are to try to conceive a Substance, not a mode or property. Farther, 
it must not be liable to ordinary mutations with Matter, which would 
endanger its identity. It must have an energy which Matter never 


CHAP. I. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


9 


displays to us, yet it must be extended , because, otherwise it could 
not reciprocate with the Body. Now all this seems to be con¬ 
ceivable. 

I can, without any violence, conceive in a man’s Brain a portion of 
space filled with mental Power, not convertible with matter, and there 
fixed during his life. 1 say, I have only to conceive it an extended 
Power, fixed there; and then I know as much of it as a Substance, 
as I do of the Substance of Matter. And if there be such a thing 
as one extended Substance, though I know not what; I do not see 
why there may not be another extended Substance, though I know 
not what. I therefore think there may be two extended Substances 
in existence, or else none at all. And, as to which of these should 
be conceived grosser , modern Science seems to have rendered the 
question rather a vulgar dispute. 

It appears neither necessary, nor perhaps possible, that the Sub¬ 
stance of Mind should be more attenuate than the Substance of Mat¬ 
ter. It seems necessary only that the size of an individual Mind, 
and some unknown other inherent properties should prevent a proper 
incorporation with Matter, thus preserving it impenetrable, or natu¬ 
rally unchangeable: and not to be destroyed unless by particular 
decree. 

Matter appears to exist in separate parts which are never known 
to be in actual contact. That thing then, which divides these 
parts cannot be Matter , yet it is extended , and keeps asunder 
while it holds together, the particles of Matter; and if it is not 
extended, then one of the grand maxims of philosophy is exploded. 
Thus though we should agree to deprive the human Mind of extension 

c 


10 


ESSAY ON 


CIIAP. I. 


we cannot deny the Extension of an existing Agent which is not 
material or solid. And, as this Agent can always be appealed to, 
I cannot see why we should deny our Minds a similar property 
when, by admitting it, we admit no new abstract belief as to a 
Power with immaterial Extension, but only remove a hitherto 
insuperable obstacle to inquiry. 

The persuasion of an extended Mind has been held by many Im- 
materialists who were also men of Science ; their only doubt being as 
to the manner of its Extension. 

Several respectable writers suppose the Soul to carry off with it 
some fine vehicle. Now if the Soul moves about, it has locality, 
which savours very strongly of Extension however minute. But if 
this be doubted, then I ask what is it that can carry off the fine 
extended vehicle? If it be a thing non-extended, then is it surely 
as much a Nonentity as those imaginary points of Matter which 
Dr. Priestley has been so pressed to maintain. Mind has power of 
resistance , as well as Matter has power of resistance ; and if it 
must be something that resists in the one case, I think it must also be 
something that resists in the other. Dr. Price’s question concerning 
Matter, “ What is it that attracts and repels?” is unanswerably 
forcible. But I feel it equally forcible to ask what is it that moves, 
and is moved ? And I find it as impossible to conceive it without 
Extension in the one case as in the other. 

To those on the other hand, who incline to make Mind a mere 
mode, having only Consciousness for its essence, I have but to say, 
that, though I am unable to conceive how Consciousness can be 
conscious; or a property can be an Agent; or how it can be either 


CHAP. I. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


ii 


the object , or subject , of reward and punishment, I wave all specula¬ 
tive contention, as beyond my province, and unprofitable ; and 
request their attention to facts which will be offered. 

If it should come to appear probable that the Mind operates ex¬ 
tensively and strictly like a physical organ, of an assignable figure, 
and, that its requisite figure, and operation, prove it to be not the 
Brain , I think it will open the way to possible discovery that the 
Mind inheres an extended Substance, whether that Substance differs 
much or little, from that of the Body. 

Doctor Priestley has asserted that the only consistent scheme of 
Immaterialism is that which denies the Mind all relation to space; 
whereby I fear he has helped to confirm many of his learned 
opponents in the prejudice which so extremely ridicules the supposi¬ 
tion that Ideas can have length and breadth. But it is a remark as 
true as it is vulgar, that facts are stubborn things ; and if Mind 
shall be found to be, what other learned Immaterialists have thought, 
that is extended, then Ideas also, it is probable, must exist with 
Extension. 


12 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. II 


CHAPTER II. 


OF THE DEPENDANCE OF THE MIND UPON THE BODY. 


Though I have placed the Speculation contained in the present 
Chapter here, as being most in order, it may be proper to remark, 
that the Hypotheses of the following enquiry are not at all affected 
by it: and the same practical reasonings hold good whatever opi¬ 
nion we may incline to in regard of the dependance in question. 

It is generally agreed that the Mind is indebted to the physical 
organs which belong to it for all the knowledge it possesses ; and, 
though the sentient Faculty may have existed from earliest Creation, 
we have no ground to suppose that it ever moved consciously , until 
the Body moved it. 

If the Mind does, originally , require a condition to enable it to 
operate, we may suppose that its action depends upon the existence 
of the condition annexed ; and, that whenever the condition fails, 
the action of the mind must be included. 

We know, that after the physical condition has been annexed, 
and the Mind has operated consequent thereunto, there happens a 
regular, and irregular, succession of failures of the operation of this 
condition; and every impartial investigation must assure us that 
during sound Sleep the Mind is wholly ignorant, and at rest. 






CHAP. II. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


13 


I am obliged to confess this reduces the sublime Spirit of Man to 
a thing nearly answering Mr. Locke's definition of a watch : being, 
“ An organisation” (though perhaps not of parts) “ to a certain end, 
which, when a sufficient force is added to it, it is capable to attain : 
and this force, coming sensibly from without, is often away when 
the organ is in order, and well fitted to receive it.” 

Such a definition applied to the Human Mind may appear very 
degrading; but, if facts support it, we must yield conviction ; and, 
truly, we know not whether it degrades us at all. 

With proper deference to the judgment of some who contend that 
the Mind is always active, I must suppose them liable to a bias 
in the wish that it did evince this sort of independence, but appear¬ 
ances, I fear, leave little room for doubt. 

I shall not, here, introduce any of the usual arguments on the 
subject, except to ask what sort of operation can be supposed to go 
on in the Mind of a Man who has lain under water until the vital 
appearances have some time ceased ? and, who is yet a much longer 
time before he affords the least sign of returned Consciousness ? and, 
if the Man ceases to think but for one minute, during this lapse, 
where is the odds, though he ceases to think every time he sleeps, 
lacking the “ sufficient force ?” 

Not only is Sensation requisite to set the Mind first in Motion ; 
but it takes years of existence, before Sensation becomes that “ suf¬ 
ficient force,” that enables the Mind to perform its functions 
tolerably. 

Now, I imagine, no one who admits Mind to be a distinct Sub¬ 
stance, will suppose that it grows with the Body. They must, of 


14 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. II. 


course, admit, that however originally perfect, it nevertheless de¬ 
pends, for its due action, upon the growth of the Body; and must 
wait its time, which is a dependance of the very same nature, only 
less in degree, than that in question. 

Whatever is the essence of the Mind its coalition with the Body is 
sufficiently humiliating; but I do not conceive it any more so that 
the latter should be constructed so as to produce , as well as to suspend , 
the action of the former; which last it certainly appears to do every 
night we sleep; and, at any rate, in some cases of insensibility. 

In both these cases the Mind is only shewn to be inferior to the 
great Power which made it; and, instead of being discouraged by 
the limitation of a condition, I confess myself, in this view of the 
thing, stimulated to adore the mercy of the Creator, for having (as I 
believe) made sensitive beings capable of rest, which I am led to 
hope he has made naturally incapable of solution. 

Mind being supposed a Reality, distinct from Body, however de¬ 
pendant thereon, we may conceive Bodies to vary, without limit, in 
other states ; but from the tendency of the present enquiry, as well 
as from other evidences, it will appear, we have no ground to think 
that Mind can either act or feel in any state without the condition of 
some adapted organised Body. 

This, if it should be found just, is a welcome view of the subject, 
in as much as it bears testimony to what we have been divinely 
taught in that faith which upholds the best hopes of Man ; and, upon 
reflection, I receive the inference with the more decided interest, be¬ 
cause it has arisen, solely, from the investigation, without my having 
had any previous view to such consequence. 


CHAP. II. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


15 


We unquestionably are satisfied that our earliest intelligences are 
those which, by experience we know, come from without. Sensa¬ 
tion, then, begins where Body ends and Mind commences; and 
the region of Perception (if it come to appear there is such a region) 
is the exterior of the Mind, which must be in contact with Nervous 
influence. 


16 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. III. 


CHAPTER III. 


OF CONSCIOUSNESS, AND OF THE DISTINCT EXISTANCE, AND MOST GENERAL 
OPERATIONS OF THE HUMAN MIND. 


SECTION I. CONSCIOUSNESS. 

From the beginning of Human life, to the end, all our knowledge is 
received by Consciousness, which is absolute Feeling of Affections 
present in the Mind, including revived Feeling of those Affections 
which have formerly been present in it. 

Consciousness is that Feeling which gives conviction of any Affec¬ 
tion being present in the Mind, whether it be intelligence from Sense, 
a remembrance of any intelligence, or a Feeling of any mere intellec¬ 
tual operation. 

I am conscious of the visible Sensation , which, from experience, I 
refer to the pen in my hand. I am conscious of the remembrance 
of having seen pens of other materials. I am conscious of the judg¬ 
ment, or opinion, that Man is most distinguished above inferior ani¬ 
mals, by capacity for Thought, and capability of acting to commu¬ 
nicate his thoughts to other individuals ofj his species, through any 
distance of time, and place, by means of visible signs. 






CHAP. III. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


17 


If my foot touched the ground at this moment, I should not be 
conscious of the ground at iny foot; but, I should be conscious of a 
Sensation , which experience has taught me to refer to the ground : 
and this complex process, becoming instantaneous from habit, is that 
which we call Perception of external Things. 

Things present to my Nerves may stimulate, and yet, owing to 
some stronger present Affection, I may have no Feeling , no Percep¬ 
tion , of them. If so I am not conscious of their presence, which 
otherwise I should be. 

It follows, that Consciousness includes Perception of Sensations, and 
Ideas ; and, that it is the sole universal Sense. In other w r ords, all 
Feelings are co-incident in the Mind, or radically intellectual , 
though those which arise internally may be distinguished as merely 
'ntellectual. 

If I perceive a Sensation, or Idea, I am conscious I perceive it; 
and, if I am conscious of any mere intellectual process, I perceive I 
am so conscious. 

The unity of Mind, or Intellect, dictates this language; for surely 
we cannot set up two intelligent Faculties, however we may vary 
the functions of the one; and, though a Sensation is applied exter¬ 
nally, it cannot he felt except internally, where intellectual Thoughts 
dwell. 

This is emphatically supported by Mr. Locke, who says, “ It 
being impossible for any one to perceive, without perceiving that he 
does perceive.” 

Consciousness is no more of the past, than of the future. We are 
conscious only of the Memory of past things, never of past things 


18 


ESSAY ON 


chap. nr. 


themselves; and this Consciousness is not a reflex act of the Mind, 
because we immediately suffer all Consciousness; but to reflect on 
that suffering is quite another operation, being a mere volition to at¬ 
tend to mental processes. 

Having thus endeavoured to express the import and extent of the 
term, as I intend to use it , I must observe that it seems impractica¬ 
ble'to treat fully concerning any of the several divisions of Con¬ 
sciousness, at any one view, without touching upon what belongs to 
some others, for which allowance is here claimed. 

SECTION II. EXISTANCE OF MIND. 

Under correction of Consciousness I here assume, that the human 
Mind, during vigilance, is continually agitated by Affections, great 
numbers of which, we are taught to believe, come from an assem¬ 
blage of extremely <mall particles, which cannot operate any way 
except by means of Extension. 

Also, that the Mind, under the action of these extended particles, 
does continually operate physically , that is, by Motions, in a similar 
way that a large tangible Body , of an assignable figure and texture, 
operates under various pressures of many surrounding small particles. 

This remains to be proved; but, mean time, I beg to specify 
under such assumptions, that the gross mode of co-operation of Body 
and Mind is as follows : 

The Nerves, respectively, convey their impulses to, and deposit 
them upon, the points of the Mind where Sensation is effected, 
which points, I shall call the region of Perception. 


CHAP. III. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


19 


Again, the Mind impressed by the minute particles contained in 
the nervous Vehicle, feels or is conscious ; in consequence of which 
it takes new Affections, and then frequently re-acts upon the ner¬ 
vous Vehicle, as occasion demands; either by a voluntary exertion of 
a peculiar qualified Motivity , or by an incontinent exertion of the 
same Motivity. 

This introduces the mere supposition of the Mind’s Reality, distinct 
existence, and relative situation, and leads me to offer a view of its 
most general modes of operation. 

SECTION III. GENERAL OPERATIONS. 

The Mind, considered as a Reality, is admirably simple; and 
operates in no more than two different general modes. These are 

Feeling , and Action. 

SECTION IV. WILL, AND ITS OFFICE. 

Feeling and Action are divided, or articulated, by a sort of men¬ 
tal disjunctive conjunction , called Will; being a hinge upon which 
Feelings turn to Action: and, concerning Will, I must here offer 
a few words, previously to entering upon the two grand modes 
which it articulates. 

When any Feeling produces a complete Volition, we Act ; but if 
Action be withheld, by either intellectual or physical force, the Will 
then exists in an imperfect state, called Wish 01 Desire , which last has 


20 


ESSAY ON 


CIIAP. III. 


been held to be a Passion, though unjustly so, as will appear from 
different views in this inquiry. Here I shall only observe, that 
Desire is as distinct f rom the Uneasiness that precedes it, as AY ill is 
distinct from the Motive that precedes it. In other words, Motives 
move Will, and Uneasiness moves Desire; but in Mankind Motives 
are Uneasinesses, therefore Will and Desire are moved by the same 
sort of impulse. 

The most profound veneration for the name of Mr. Locke, does 
not enable me to agree with him in all cases. I am under neces¬ 
sity to remark, that in his Chapter upon Power, his reasoning upon 
this point is extremely vague, if not contradictory. Its general 
tendency is to identify Desire with Uneasiness; and yet, in several 
places, it admits their diversity, as in the following: “ All pain of 
the body, of whatever sort, and disquiet of the Mind, is Uneasiness, 
and with this is always joined Desire equal to the pain.” 

I must so far anticipate the remainder of this question as to ob¬ 
serve, that Desire, being a species of Will, has always a definitive 
object, as for giving in charity, or for eating charcoal; but both 
children and adults are often very uneasy, and yet cannot tell what 
they desire ; that is, what they think would ease them. Uneasiness 
is an absolute Affection in the Mind , which may exist without indi¬ 
cating any future thing ; but no Desire can take place until we first 
think of the Thing which we imagine would relieve us. 


CHAP. III. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


21 


SECTION V. ALL KNOWLEDGE IS FEELING. 

However it may at first appear, I think, Feeling and Action , play¬ 
ing on the Articulation, Will or Desire, comprehend every change 
incident to Mind. 

The boundless fields of human thought, and enterprize; the never 
ending trains of Sensations, Ideas, Reasonings, and Results; elabo¬ 
rated, by the Mind itself, into Passions and Morals, and extending 
their courses throughout all the difficult regions of science : all these 
will be found not to proceed from, but to be themselves , in every step 
of their processes, either Feeling or Action. 

In the first place, all our external Senses are notoriously inlets to 
mere Feelings; and our Passions, usually so called, are also Feel¬ 
ings which equally oppress the Mind. I may therefore at once pro¬ 
ceed to the weakest species of Affection, and observe, that our cool 
assent to the lightest proposition, is as truly an involuntary Affection as 
a Sensation from a sword. To assent is merely to feel its truth ; and 
to express that assent is quite another affair. 

Belief, Doubt, and Conjecture, are equally involuntary with any 
of the foregoing. 

Memory and Imagination, or Conception, are in the same degree, 
mere modes of Feeling, and both smile at the pretensions of Will. 

Reasoning is an alternation of Feeling and Action. Throughout 
the longest induction, Will performs the very similar part that it does 
when we are trying by the eye to discover, at a distance, whether 
a certain visible object be a man or a horse. In this case, we volun¬ 
tarily bend the organ upon the object, and endeavour, by every 


22 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. III. 


change of posture and energy, to embrace any moment of light that 
may permit discernment. At length, when we have succeeded, the 
discovery is gratuitous , and we only suffer it, though Will has been 
so very industrious to enable us to suffer it. 

In Reasoning, the Mind perceives the equality or difference in 
two Ideas, and then acts, by Will, to compare one of these with some 
other; that is, AVill puts us in a new situation to perceive the result 
of the sought comparison, and, then , we do perceive it, and so on. 

It has been laid down by a learned author, that Reasoning 
requires two different mental Powers . Now what I offer is, that one 
of the two powers is mere Will to look in various directions; and 
the other only a passive capacity to perceive equality, or difference, 
between two Things ; which last Power, is like the Power of wax to 
be melted , being no other than suffering. 

The Mind of a Philosopher patiently traversing the untrod fields 
of Science, operates radically in a similar way to that of a Boy shut 
up in a closet full of holes, watching the flight of a number of 
pidgeons round him. 

The Boy desires to see them, and having caught a glimpse of one, 
lo! it is blue: he then watches to see others, and having succeeded 
with a second, it is white. He had in his option to watch, or not to 
watch ; but having watched until the pidgeons crossed his attentive 
eyes, he could not avoid seeing them ; neither could he make the 
blue pidgeon white, nor the white pidgeon blue. These conscious 
truths he suffers irresistibly. 

Thus all Knowledge acquired by design , is nothing but accession 
of new facts in Consciousness, which the voluntary acts of the Mind 


CIIAP. III. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


23 


had put us in a situation to suffer; and all knowledge acquired 
without design consists in similar conscious sufferings , through 
chance. The Mind is often truly active in search of knowledge, 
but always as passive in finding it, as in receiving a blow which 
we put ourselves in the way to suffer. 

In thus reasoning as I feel, (which I purpose doing throughout,) 
I have the good fortune to go with the sense, strictly of Helvetius, 
and virtually of Locke; and deem it a position that cannot be shaken,, 

SECTION VI. IMAGINATION IS FEELING. 

Keeping in remembrance this extremely simple view of the Mind, 
we may divide, and sub-divide its operations as often as convenience 
requires, but we shall give continuance to error if we attach the 
offices of Faculties to mere processes, or accidents that befal the 
percipient Faculty itself. 

Such usage having obtained, seems" to question the unity of the 
Mind, and would tempt a plain Man to suppose it consisted of a 
commonwealth of Powers, whose authorities and interests may vary 
with circumstances. 

In this way we are usually said to have not only the Faculties of 
Understanding , Memory , and Imagination , but a great number of 
other Faculties; which, in plain truth, are nothing but mere modes of 
suffering , to which the sole Faculty, or Mind, becomes subject , either 
through accidental or voluntary position. 

The grand Faculty, Understanding, or the reasoning Power, I have 
here partly examined, and shall consider again. Memory is re- 


24 


ESSAY ON 


CIIAP. III. 


served to be considered at different views, but is undeniably mere 
Feeling; and the grand mode of mere intellectual operation called 
Imagination I will now consider. 

If one Man has not that revived Feeling called Memory, nor 
that fine species of Memory called Imagination, so exquisitely as 
another, his Will cannot directly help him, any more than it could 
if his Vision was duller than another’s. 

Neither can a Man’s Will directly prevent his having fine or gross 
Imaginations any more than it can prevent a gross scene from an¬ 
noying his eyes, if it finds them without a tenant. So true is this, that 
a Man of delicate Imagination is doomed to suffer gross conceptions. 

This boasted creative Faculty, Imagination , then is no Faculty at 
all; but only a degree of general Susceptibility , which may be , by the 
Will, placed in a variety of postures most favourable to receive con¬ 
ceptions, when we wish them to strike us otherwise than by chance. 

All Men possess this passive capacity, but the extent of it de¬ 
pends on the generality of Susceptibility, or upon the Mind’s not 
being habitually confined to particular objects. 

A short-sighted house or market lie, is as truly a work of Ima¬ 
gination, as is Paradise Lost. 

When a vendor assigns to his article latent qualities, which he 
knows it does not possess; he first feels that such qualities would be 
valuable to himself, and therefore feels a belief that they are so to 
the purchaser. So far Will has nothing to do; all this strikes 
him unavoidably. But now comes Will, and gives utterance to 
this Imagination, calling it truth. 

Thus, in a little episode, during the sale of a rotten herring. 


CHAP. III. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


25 


the Mind performs that sublime operation, which has been called 
the work of a creative Faculty. A Faculty which is pretty gene¬ 
rally displayed in our day, though the possessors of it are rather 
variously gifted in point of elegance. 

Two persons are associated in some fraudulent compact, which 
both feel either a conviction, belief, or mere suspicion, will come 
to light. Both are willing enough to invent a fiction to hide it; but 
Will cannot help them. At length to one of them occurs, or the 
other is struck by , such, or such a train of Ideas, which are 
adopted, as they flow, involuntary though wished; and the drama 
being thus gratuitously furnished, Will steps in , and gives it repre¬ 
sentation, with the violated name of truth. 

Will is here, as in all cases, the point of Articulation between 
Feeling and Action. 

It is my decided intention, as much as possible, to avoid contrast¬ 
ing opinions, that I may proceed with more brevity; but in some 
cases it will be necessary: and here I cannot help citing Dr. 
Hartley, as a well received authority on Mental Mechanism. In 
his Introduction, he says, “ The Will is that state of the Mind which 
is immediately previous to, and causes those express acts of Me¬ 
mory, Fancy, and bodily Motion, which are termed voluntary/' 

When an erudite treatise sets out with stating Memory to be 
an express act, and Will, the cause of that act, I must think our 
case is very unpromising, because the matter of fact appears to me 
directly the contrary, and not to me only, for herein I have the sup¬ 
port of names the most approved, and I \believe also, that the 
opinion is general. 

E 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. III. 


26 


Again, if Fancy, that is Imagination, is an express Act, and Will 
its cause , why does not every Man of an equal stock of experience, 
fancy as well as Milton or Shakespeare ? Or why is a susceptible 
Man’s Mind haunted by Fancies that he AVills to drive away, but 
finds that all such volitions only refresh the Idea, and at length per¬ 
ceives that the only way to escape such Imaginations, is to place his 
suffering Mind in some posture wherein any stronger interest may 
strike it ? 

Memory and Imagination are not express A cts, but express Suf¬ 
ferings. And Will is not the immediate cause nor occasion of either, 
except in the same sense that he who turns the barrel of an organ, is 
the cause of the music. The barrel has its adapted capacity, and 
this is acted upon by various impulses, which certainly differ, in 
analogy, from those of the Mind, because none of them are internal; 
but the music is certainly no act of the barrel, any more than of the 
grinder, and the volition which turns it could cause no music, if the 
barrel were not struck as it revolves. 

It is admitted that the Mind cannot make simple Ideas, but what 
is here advanced is, that the Mind does not act in forming trains of 
Ideas: it only sustains them, as they occur, present, strike, or 
attack us, spite of all guard. 

When these trains have so struck us, we may leave out what parts 
we please, and select the others for our drama; but this has nothing 
to do with their conscious accession or prevention, over which we 
have no direct power whatever. 


CHAP. III. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


27 


SECTION VII. THOUGHT EXISTS WITH MOTION. 

Having thus examined both the grand inodes of mental operation, 
Reasoning and Imagination, if I am warranted in my argument, it 
follows, that the Mind never operates, except in two general modes, 
that is, in the way of Susceptibility, and the way of Motivity. 

Concerning these respectively, I am, in the next two chapters, to 
inquire, and shall here only observe, that as the proper Action of 
Mind is generally followed by Motions of Body, it may be probable 
that the Mind is physically Motive in all active Moods ; and if so, it 
may also be probable that Feeling , operates with Motion , concern¬ 
ing which probability I am to inquire. 


SECTION VIII. ALL FEELINGS UO-INCIDENT ON 
MIND. 

I cannot conclude this chapter without remarking the diversity of 
existing opinions, concerning mental Operations; a melancholy evi¬ 
dence of the little progress that has been made in the Philosophy of 
Mind. 

Not only do Men of the best discernment, and some general agree¬ 
ment in Opinion, differ in various important points from each other ; 
but very few have written much without being, in some cases, 
inconsistent with themselves. 

The present view of the subject was adopted in a very remote 


28 


ESSAY ON 


chap. nr. 


country, far from aids indispensibly requisite to consult. Since 
then, I have had opportunity to compare it with Opinions of dif- 
derent writers; and, have in many instances, felt gratified to find 
that I have thought like them : but, there is not one from whom I 
have not the misfortune to differ in some radical points. 

Amongst others, I find myself entertaining a similar view to that 
of Mons. Helvetius, of the manner of the accession of our know¬ 
ledge. His account of this, I think simply just, and therefore beau¬ 
tifully so. Yet his conclusion, that the Mind is quite distinct from, 
and really the effect of the Soul; is altogether foreign to any concep¬ 
tion that I can form, and is a melancholy evidence how much we 
deviate in the dark. 

Since my present undertaking has been completed, I learn that a 
new work on this subject has been presented to the world, by an 
Author high in estimation for his writings on the Philosophy of the 
Mind; and whose authority I must consider as claiming my best 
attention. 

In this work, Mr. Locke, and some of his followers, (amongst 
whom I find myself an individual, following at respectful distance,) 
are blamed, even to ridicule, as upholding a gross misconception, 
that Sensation and Consciousness are the only sources of our know- 
lodge. And farther, that he did r in effect, reduce all knowledge to 
mere cases of Consciousness only. 

Now, I have not taken, that Locke meant to distinguish Sensa¬ 
tion from Consciousness, other than as part from a whole, but only 
Sensation from Reflection; by which last he meant mere intellectual 
operations; and thus, made Sensation, and Reflection, the two 


CHAP. III. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


29 


sources of all Consciousness , or knowledge; which (though opposed,) 
is what I nevertheless think is the fact. 

But it is advanced against this, that there is a large class of Ope¬ 
rations, which cannot be directly referred either to Sensation, or 
to Consciousness. And, among other instances, we are told, that 
when a Sensation gives us conviction of our own existence, this last 
intimation is not an object either of Sensation, or of Consciousness. 

Farther, it is asserted, that in such cases, “ the exercise of a par¬ 
ticular Faculty, furnishes the occasion on which certain simple 
Notions are, by the laws of our constitution, presented to our 
thoughts." Such, as the Notion of our existence; the Notion of the 
existence of an external World; of Time; of Motion, and the like: 
which certainly form a numerous, and important class of Feelings. 

Actuated, as I indeed am, by gratitude, and admiration toward 
Mr. Locke; and by the allowed equity of self-defence; I am, how¬ 
ever, neither blindly devoted to all he has advanced, nor to my own 
chosen term , Consciousness. Beyond which, I am quite alive to the 
great odds, in judgment, between the learned authority against me, 
and a man of mere original thinking. 

All Men have not habitual access to the library, the laboratory, 
and the various theatres of knowledge ; but all have access to their 
own Minds : and this is a case of Feeling , in which all participate. 
Besides which, the rare genius of Locke, and the Minds of his fol¬ 
lowers, were advantaged by learning. It is then deplorable if they 
were so grossly deceived in Feeling. 

This being confessed, I have felt doubly called upon to exa¬ 
mine myself, and after respectfully yielding up the term Con- 


Su 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. III. 


sciousness, I rein am fixed in my position, that all Knowledge is re¬ 
ceived by the susceptible capacity of one Faculty ; and that its occa¬ 
sions are mere sufferings which bejal the Mind irresistibly, when 
either accident or design puts it in a right posture , and the external 
occasion is present in itself, or its Memory. 

I regret that in this particular point I am not favoured by a sanc¬ 
tion unquestionably estimable; but no effort has enabled me to dis¬ 
cover those distinct Faculties that are thus said to furnish the occa¬ 
sions on which Notions are presented. 

When I learn the Notion of Time, of Motion, or of the existence 
of the external World, it is an external Thing that “ furnishes the 
occasion” on which my Perception is newly struck ; but, on such oc¬ 
casions I no more exercise any new Faculty , than when 1 learn any 
other new truth by my old Senses. 

I not only have the honour to agree, but have already suggested, 
and shall hereafter argue, that such Notions do strike us on occa¬ 
sions that are subsequent to Sensations ; and that they, of course, re¬ 
quire Memory; but I shall also have to argue, that our Passions are 
generated in the very same way; and equally that our sensitive 
Powers themselves, are not at first so intelligent, correct, nor exten¬ 
sive, as they become when developed by various occasions , especially 
when sharpened by interest. This last cause enables the wary In¬ 
dian to trace his enemy’s foot upon the grass ; and endows the blind 
Man, who once knew colours, with Sensibility to feel colours by the 
touch. Such extra capacity for Sensation is then evolved by extra 
occasions , in the very same way that our intellectual capacity for the 
above questioned Notions is evolved. 


CHAP. III. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


31 


An ignorant clown cannot contemplate sounds like a musician. 
He cannot distinguish a good picture like a painter; nor discriminate 
objects in the horizon like an Arab of the desert. 

A shepherd knows the individuals of his flock; and a jeweller 
discerns the defects in gems. Set the jeweller to watch the sheep, 
and the shepherd to select gems, and we shall see both at a loss, 
though both have been usecUto work by the accuracy of their Vision. 
But if Interest bend them to their changed employments, we shall 
find that, in time, each will fill the office of the other. Now, I ask, 
are they different Faculties that furnish the occasions of these im¬ 
provements ? Is it any thing more than interested attention? And, 
as it is with Vision, so it is with Understanding, Reflection, and Ge¬ 
neralisation ; all performed by mere attention to what occurs. 
The only Act the Mind performs in it, is a Volition to attend, and it 
often attends without such Volition. 

Accidents of Consciousness, whether of Sense or 'Reflection , I 
therefore hold, are not limited to what a Man feels at first ; but in¬ 
tend whatever he feels at any time : and this also includes what he 
feels that he does at any time. Farther, the whole of this may be 
refelt by a Consciousness of the Ideas of the past. 

I suppose it will not be disputed that w e feci we exist, and feel a 
belief that the external world exists; and, certainly, we did not make 
these judgments, nor could we help having them, any more than we 
could resist the Idea of green , or the Perception of sameness or 
difference. 

I must apologise in having neither time nor ability to defend this 
matter in a better way ; but, I really deem the position so strong 


32 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. III. 


in itself, that nothing more is wanting; nor can I imagine in my 
Mind a number of Faculties, whilst I find the sole Faculty equal to 
every susceptible and active office it has to perform. 

I never suppose the universal Sense which I have called Con¬ 
sciousness, to be a Faculty, any more than those supposed Faculties 
that are said to furnish occasions. On the contrary, I take an instance 
of Consciousness to be an accident befalling a mere Property, pecu¬ 
liar to Minds, by mean of which Property th ey feel on certain oc¬ 
casions. I take Mind itself to be a Faculty, not because it suffers 
any thing, but because it has Motivity, and can Act. 

In what is here offered, I hope I have not been deficient in the 
respect which may justly be claimed by those from whom it differs. 

If the question was any thing beyond what Men of good under¬ 
standings, though of unequal erudition, are competent to Feel, I should 
not have presumed ; but, humbly imagine, that an ordinary share of 
information may enable Men to decide for themselves, after due 
attention to the subject. 


/ 


chap. iv. HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 33 

CHAPTER IV. 


OF THE SUSCEPTIBILITY OF THE MIND. 


SECTION I. THOUGHT EXISTS WITH MOTION. 

The Mind is passive in being the sufferer of Sensations, of Memory, 
and of all Knowledge, including that of intellectual Passions. Far¬ 
ther, in a word, Mind is the sufferer of every possible instance of 
Consciousness, and equally feels when it properly acts , ns when it 
is merely passive. 

Again, the Mind is active in being the mover of itself, and of the 
Body, by a sole inherent spring, which it exerts in all cases of volun¬ 
tary and incontinent Motion. 

Here we know, that Motions are the physical occasions of Sensitive 
sufferings, and other evident Motions are the physical effects of the 
Mind’s Action. I shall therefore suppose Motions are either the 
occasions, or concomitants , of all mental Operations. 

Reserving the consideration of the Mind’s Motivity for the next 
chapter, I shall here offer some account of its passive or susceptible 
office, in addition to what was necessarily advanced in the last one ; 
and the subject will again claim attention in a more advanced stage 
of the inquiry. 

F 






34 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. IV. 


In the outset, I may be permitted to observe, it is very difficult 
to detect, and accurately describe, the operations of the Mind, 
though every Man has within himself the subject he is to work 
upon, and the implements he is to employ. This is evinced by 
how few have any comprehension of the subject, and still more 
so by the diversity of Opinions amongst those who are best endowed 
with discernment this way. Hence a vague, incorrect, or very false 
description may pass for a clear and just one, with those who never 
bent their Minds to discriminate rigidly between the different parts 
of processes. 

To arrive at any accuracy herein must be the result of minute 
attention; and, in many cases, not attainable without repeated cor¬ 
rection of our opinions, and more particularly of our language. This, 
at least, I confess to be my own case, and I can have no self-assu¬ 
rance that I have succeeded at last. 

SECTION II. MODES OF FEELING. 

The Mind is endowed with exquisite conscious Susceptibility ; and 
so far, also, I suppose it physically flexible , owing to which proper¬ 
ties it must receive every possible impulse, sensual and intellectual , 
that assails it, so long as any of its flexibility remains unoccupied. 

The Susceptibility of the Mind, I think, naturally divides itself 
into six principal modes, which are, 

Sensation, Interest, Memory, Understanding, Passion, and Imagi¬ 
nation. 

Upon investigation it will appear, that these six Modes of Feel- 


ciiap. iv. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


35 


ing must occur in succession at the beginning of Life; that is, the 
later mode could not exist if the earlier Modes had not been 
previously called into existence. 

Of these modes I shall here offer an outline in the above mentioned 
order, in which they seem necessarily occasioned in the Mind. 

SECTION III. SENSATION, 

This Mode of suffering, it is well known, is the earliest occasion 
of human intelligence, and all other knowledge is, in some way or 
other, consequent to it, upon which, perhaps, no more need be said 
in this place. 

SECTION IV. INTEREST. 

Sensations, and almost every other absolute intelligence in the 
Mind, besides being intelligence, is apposited with some Feeling of 
Interest , which consists in our liking or dislike of such intelligence. 

Interest, though concomitant with, is quite a distinct Feeling 
from Intelligence, therefore every instance of knowledge is a double 
Affection, being Intelligence apposited with Interest. 

This mode of Feeling, which I call Interest , and which seems so 
generally neglected as a branch of mental machinery, will how¬ 
ever be found, (speaking figuratively,) to be the great Movement 
that supports Memory , as well as the main Axis upon which our 
Affections revolve. 

The sense of Interest is as extensive , and almost as universal, as 


36 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. IV. 


Consciousness itself, and fails in only a very few minute points 
of our sense of existence. Nominal indifference often takes place, 
and there must, indeed, be a neutral point betwixt Pleasure and Pain; 
but, if philosophically examined, very few cases are strictly neutral; 
and, if such happen, we must detect them at the moment; for I think 
it certain that they never will be remembered. Interest and Con¬ 
sciousness are, however, quite distinct Feelings, though concomitant, 
or apposited to each other; and I think I may safely place Interest 
subsequent to Sensation, which is its earliest cause , although it ap¬ 
pears coeval with it. 

By its inherent limited Motivity the Mind can direct its voluntary 
attention to a few objects, or to any one object; and if it conse¬ 
quently becomes exclusively interested , the result is, that the Mind, 
unavoidably and unwarily , expels other present objects, or else ap¬ 
proaches toward such a state by lessening the Feeling or Conscious¬ 
ness it had of such objects: and this result will approach to be 
more complete in proportion as the attracting object has much In¬ 
terest , and the vanishing ones very little, or none worth notice. 

A similar process, and result will take place, if, instead of a cool 
volition, the attention had been from the first attracted : and the 
expulsion of weak objects will be most certain and complete when 
the Interest is compulsory or imperious, as in cases of sensible an¬ 
guish and of anxiety. 

Interests are no other than what we call Pleasures and Pains. 
These are of endless varieties; and, as to degree , I estimate Pain 
in the extensive sense of Mr. Locke, as embracing all estates, from 
•agony down to the lowest Feeling of Uneasiness; whilst, on the 


CHAP. IV. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


37 


other hand, Pleasure includes every state better than mere neutral 
indifference. 

At the same time I make no radical distinction between sen¬ 
sual and intellectual Pain or Pleasure, though the impulses that 
produce them are of opposite sources. 

SECTION V. MEMORY. 

The Mind is farther endowed with a very remarkable sympa¬ 
thetic weakness , owing to which, if it be at any time affectedi by 
a complex Feeling; and if, after an interval of time, any part of 
such complex Feeling be re-inflicted , or any near similitude there¬ 
of, then the Mind itself will relapse into the whole original com¬ 
plex Feeling, in a fainter degree, or, at least, will tend thereunto, 
in proportion as the said original Feeling was of some Interest , 
or has gained Interest by any accident in repetition. 

If the original Feeling be taken as simple, instead of complex, 
then any similitude, or any associate, may occasion the relapse. 

'J’his sympathetic relapse into former Feelings, is called Memory ; 
and in Memory are associated not only Ideas, which are mere 
relicts of Sensation; but also all past mere intellectual Affections, 
combined, or accidentally intermixed with Ideas, as in one reposi¬ 
tory. All these are reproduced not by an active energy, but truly 
l>y a weakness of the Mind; that is to say, by an involuntary 
Affection which no human Mind can directly command or 
prevent. 

To this account must be added, that Memory is accompanied 


38 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. IV. 


by an apposited conviction that we have had the originals in the 
Mind before. But knowledge may re-occur, either disjointed, or 
preposterously jointed, and without such conviction; and then the 
Affection is called Imagination. 

It is not here intended to treat upon Memory farther, than to 
adopt the position that it is not the operation of Brain, which I 
shall endeavour to establish in its proper place, at the same time 
that an adequate instrumentality may, perhaps, be assigned to that 
Organ. 

In this place it need only be added, that Interest is the sole 
requisite of Memory . We remember, precisely, in the degree in 
which we have been interested ; and any circumstance that had 
strictly , neither intrinsic nor associated Interest, will never be 
remembered at all. 

SECTION VI. UNDERSTANDING. 

After Sensation, Interest, and Memory, the next Mode of Feel¬ 
ing that is occasioned in the Mind, seems to be that which is usually 
called Uunderstanding, or the Feeling of Reason and Reflection. 

This Mode embraces a very numerous class of Affections, and in¬ 
cludes Intuition and Induction, which have been in the last chapter 
considered. Also, Reflection upon the Operations of our own 
Minds, and upon all other circumstances. Herein is included, Ge¬ 
neralisation or Abstraction, and those processes of Knowledge, or 
Notions , that have been ascribed to certain Faculties , which are 
said to present their occasions. 


CHAP. IV. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


39 


Now I have already very plainly argued, that in the process of 
Reasoning the Mind performs no Act, and exercises no Power , save 
and except a mere Volition to attend to external appearances, and 
related conceptions, in such postures of Body, or Mind, as the 
occasion requires. 

And I here advance, that in the process of Consciousness wherein 
we acquire the Notions of self-existence, the world’s existence, 
Time, Motion, Identity, and the like, the Mind performs no Act , 
and exercises no Faculty , except a mere Volition to attend to what 
passes, or has passed , within itself. 

When such voluntary Attention has procured us a glimpse, or a 
more durable view of internal appearances or Feelings, such as any of 
those abovementioned, we suffer them, as the Boy must have seen 
the pidgeons, that is, irresistibly. 

What is more, I think that numberless instances of what is called 
Understanding are forced upon us, without any Volition to attend; 
and in such cases the Mind is merely passive, as it is during Sensa¬ 
tion and Remembrance. 

But to speak rigidly, Understanding begins from Sensation itself, 
and to feel hunger is, in a very humble Sense, to understand. 

From this low origin commences Knowledge, and Perception of 
Sensations belongs to Reason, as part to a whole, which also it must, 
otherwise Reasoning is no essential Feeling in Man. 

This I offer as a simple account of the manner in which we ac¬ 
quire the Knowledge in question, but shall be grateful to any Man 
who Avill show me what Act, or office, any other Faculty performs 
in such processes. 


40 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. IV. 


SECTION VII. PASSION. 

The Mind is the immediate seat of all mere intellectual Passions, 
properly so called, which, like Sensations and Ideas, are nothing hut 
modes of Feeling , by the Motions of which, the Conscious Faculty 
is placed in this, or that, general posture, in which generality of 
posture Pasions so far differ from Sensations, because Sensations are 
more partial or particular Affections. 

The Passions, in fact, are consequent to the four modes already 
here described. 

The very earliest of intellectual Passions we can feel is that of 
Fear, (which is the common root of several Passions,) but Fear can¬ 
not be brought into operation until after we have felt Pain, and its 
absence; and it is obvious that Fear cannot exist until we have so 
much Understanding as to expect a return of Pain. 

Pain, probably, happens to be apposited with the very earliest 
Sensations we have in coming into life; and this impulse soon 
gives place to Indolence, or to a pleasing Sensation. 

As nervous Pain comes to be repeated, the Mind notes these re¬ 
petitions together with present intelligences , which to it come to 
appear as causes of the evil; and when, thereafter, it perceives 
any of these Sensations, this occasions an expectation of Pain, under 
which expectation the Mind becomes agitated by an Affection truly 
painful in itself , though not the least like the Pain expected. This 
intellectual Pain is Fear, and under it the Mind acts incontinently 
and variously, upon the whole Nervous System. 


CHAP. IV. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


41 


SECTION VIII. FEAR, UNIVERSAL AND 
NECESSARY. 

Though it appears certain that Fear never can operate until the 
Mind has gained acquaintance with the objects that produce it, I 
do not see that it has less claim to be called an innate Feeling, than 
any of the sensual Affections that precede it in Action. 

It is quite apparent that the Mind is created with nothing hut 
capacity for Feeling , and a peculiar Power for Action . 

If any thing whatever is innate I imagine the Capacity for Sensa¬ 
tion will be admitted. We require no process of association to ena¬ 
ble us to feel Pain, or see Light; and in granting this, I fancy every 
Man will grant, that the whole five external Senses have equal 
claims to be called innate; yet, all infants are some days with their 
eyes open before the optic Nerves can convey the proper Motions, 
and they might continue to exist under a natural or artificial ob¬ 
struction of light, and thus never feel its Power; whilst no one would 
question their original capacity for Vision. 

Farther, if the artificial obstruction were removed, they would 
see, doubtless, from their original capacity, and not as a result of 
association, although association becomes afterwards necessary to 
inform them, continually, what it is that conveys the Sensation ; or, 
in other words, is necessary to what is called Perception of external 
Things. 

The capacity for Fear, and other radical Passions, seem to me of the 
very same origin with that for Sensation. The Mind only requires 

G 


42 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. IV. 


to have acquaintance with the object that produces Pain; and, by 
aid of Association, to judge of its approach: and this judgment 
produces Fear; but the Association of seeming causes with effects 
that produced this judgment, is not Fear. 

I see a Lion, and immediately think of his destructive Power and 
propensity ; but, such a sight produces no Fear , except in a morbid 
Mind, unless the Lion be let loose, and then I should Fear also; 
because I judge that he would destroy me. 

Here Judgment is a thing which follows Association, and precedes 
Fear; and thus Association and Fear are so different as to have a 
distinct process (judgment) step betwixt them. 

Mental Association is a chain which human effort cannot break 
by any sudden means, though it may be worn out. For instance: no 
Man who has seen the effects of fire, can contemplate that Agent 
without believing it capable of destroying; and, if Fear is a mere 
necessary result, and only a link to this chain, no Man can contem¬ 
plate fire without feeling Fear; but this certainly is not true. What 
is more, Fear does not necessarily accompany our expectation of 
destruction by fire. 

To-day a Man flies fire; and in this case Fear appears as if linked 
in the chain of Association. To-morrow he embraces fire as a bosom 
friend ; but though Fear is thus suddenly separated from the chain, 
he would find it impossible to separate the Idea of his earthly 
destruction from the Idea of fire. And thus we discern what is 
absolutely linked in mental Association; and what is, on the con¬ 
trary, an essential Passion, not a process of Association, but only the 
chance companion of it. 


CHAP. IV. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


43 


Fear is only the mood that follows expectation of evil; but fire or 
death may be thought other than evil under some circumstances, 
and the prospect of bliss has enabled the willing martyr not only to 
be insensible of Fear, but to embrace sensible Pain with composure. 

Very timid Minds are often afraid when contemplating Power in 
any shape; but it is not mere association that creates the Fear; but 
that the parties do not judge themselves quite safe and if a Man or 
Woman unluckily forgets that a cage Tiger, or a statue, cannot 
come forward and bite, this would be indeed a melancholy in¬ 
stance of rational failing giving occasion for Fear; but the fault 
lies in the disease of the Body , or undue operation of the Brain, and 
the process has nothing to do with the constitution of the Mind 
properly speaking. 

Our five external nervous Senses certainly do not begin to operate 
at the first moment of life, and if those that begin latest are admitted 
as original , why may not intellectual Senses be so, though they must 
unavoidably come later into Action than the external ones. 

If Fear was not an essential Sense, I suppose we might have it, 
or not have it, but its universality is undeniable. 

All races of Men have the same species of external Senses, yet 
some individuals are curtailed of the operation of one or two of these 
species without our doubting that they possess the mental capacity 
for them. But Fear is as universally secured to us as any of our 
external Senses, for no human Being ever lived through childhood 
without it: the greatest heroes have occasionally felt it in their 
manhood : maniacs acknowledge it; and, idiots are guarded by it. 

Nay, if ingenuity were employed upon an individual who had as 


44 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. IV. 


few external Senses as he could exist with, I do not see how we 
could prevent this Feeling of Fear, or of Hope, in his Mind, so 
certainly is it excited by the unavoidable condition of his earthly 
existence. 

Fear takes place whenever experience has removed the bandage 
as truly as does Vision, when we unbind the eye; and though 
inevitably late, it is the most universal of all Feelings, next to the 
Feeling of Existence. 

There is nothing original in the Mind, but capacities , and a pe¬ 
culiar Power ; and if any thing is innate, it is the capacity for Fear, 
which is an intellectual Sense so truly radical, that it appears 
essential in all created Minds, Men, Ants , and Angels. 

This is not intended to discuss the subject of the Passions, but 
merely to point at the office of the Mind under Passion. In so do¬ 
ing, I may, however, here remark, that under several of the nominal 
Passions the Mind is, in reality, active; or, at least, hinging between 
Passion and Action, which ought to be discriminated. As instances, 
we have Envy, or the wishing evil to another who has surpassed 
us; and Revenge, or wishing to hurt another who has injured us. 
In neither of these cases is the Mind passive ; but consciously de¬ 
siring an event , which Desire, will be found, radically, a mode of 
Volition , as shall be shewn. And, as a proof that Revenge and 
Envy are not innate, some persons are without them. 

The same holds of Ambition, Avarice,. &c. with which Affections 
Man need not be actuated. 

I shall conclude this short and imperfect account, by observing, 
that after Fear has been once deeply felt, it becomes, like every other 


CHAP. IV. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


45 


Affection, subject to the laws of Memory. Hence, when tiniicl per¬ 
sons are put in a situation to call up remembrance of deep Fekr, 
they become morbidly and secondarily fearful by association, 
though the object be absent; but this process is totally different 
from the original and absolute Passion of Fear, and we must here 
discriminate if we would avoid error. 

SECTION IX. SUMMARY OF FEELINGS. 

Having thus offered a brief account of the six principal modes 
of Susceptility, (including Imagination < treated in the last chapter,) 
I think it appears they must develope themselves in the order 
assigned. 

Sensations are doubtless the first occasions that happen in infancy. 
These Sensations give great Interest, and Interest, I shall fully argue, 
is the sole parent of Memory. Memory and Sensation compared is 
the occasion which developes Understanding which last must be used 
previously to the very earliest Passion , because Fear cannot take 
place until we have Understanding enough to expect a return of 
Pain. 

Now, as an Infant at the breast is susceptible of Fear , this affords 
an incontestible evidence at what an early stage of existence five 
grand modes of intelligence have already operated , there remain¬ 
ing only one other untried, that is, Imagination, which, in fact, 
is only a species of Memory that occurs in various groupes of Ideas, 
after experience has afforded us a stock of them. 

This summary account of the occasions of our Feelings is what I 


46 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. IV. 


am inclined to think cannot he either disproved, or their assigned 
order displaced. And if there is any other grand mode of Suscepti¬ 
bility, not embraced in the scope of any of these, it does not at 
present occur to my Memory. 

It must, indeed, be supposed that a sucking Infant can feel only 
very low degrees of Memory and Understanding; but it is certain 
they feel Fear, and I think it is generally admitted, agreeably to 
what I have advanced, that an Infant must have Pain, and Memory 
of Pain, and so?ne notion of a cause or occasion, before it can possibly 
feel Fear. This, if granted, establishes the order of our Feelings as 
above assigned, though I am not aware that their occasions have 
been before arranged in this necessary order by any one. 


CHAP. V. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


47 


- iA m. 'i viifUnt 

CHAPTER V. 


OF THE MOTIVITY OF THE MIND. 


SECTION. I. MOTIVES TO ACTION. 

The Mind appears endowed with a qualified Motivity; and, 
though we cannot assert it to be an absolute Agent, because it 
ever appears limited by a condition, yet it seems equally probable 
that it possesses some sort of Motivity, as that its Motivity cannot be 
exerted without the condition annexed. 

If any thing that has been already advanced, or that may be 
brought forward in the subsequent part of this inquiry, should 
suggest a supposition, that the Feeling and Action of the Mind, 
resemble the reciprocal Action of mere matter. I agree that there 
is a superficial resemblance apparent , though not strict , in cases of 
what is called involuntary Motion, but not at all in the case of 
a voluntary Act after deliberation. 

If Mind acts by its extension, which I suppose it to do in all 
cases, an involuntary impulse of the Mind against the Body, 






43 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. V. 


must resemble the Action of matter; but the extended Mind, I 
conjecture, is actuated by a spring peculiar to Minds ; and though 
it is continually, re-acting, in a physical Sense, that is, in its 
physical capacity, as an extended Thing, yet, its Action , I sup¬ 
pose, in all possible cases, to proceed from the one intellectual Power 
of Motion. 

Concerning this something more will be offered in Chapter X.; 
but although I hope that truth may be found under this indication, 
yet it will be vain to set out in search of it, if we, through preju¬ 
dice, close our eyes whenever it appears under any garb that we 
may think unfavourable to our interests. 

That we never perform any voluntary Act of importance without 
being influenced by a consideration , and that such consideration is 
always the most urgent “ present uneasiness” which makes us desire 
the Act, is a truth so manifest and undeniable, that I think no 
conscious fact is more true; and it requires but little attention to 
perceive that it must be the like in every case of Volition, however 
trivial , or however foolish. 

In all cases of what is called involuntary Action it is the very 
same; for in such we ahvays yield, (without heeding consequences,) 
to the strongest pressing uneasiness, which makes us desire a change. 
Desire here operates, under the same spring that in. other cases 
moved Will; Desire being only Will withheld. 

We must, I think, also accord to the Necessarian, (past dispute,) 
that we should act in the ver} r same way, a thousand times over, 
if we were placed in precisely similar circumstances, including the 
disposition of the Mind itself: and to deny that we should do so, 


CHAP. V. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


49 


or to assert that we can act, voluntarily, without a Motive, or in any 
case against the strongest Motive, would, I think, impeach either 
the discernment, or the candour of an advocate of Free Will. 

It certainly is not my object to engage, at length, in the ques¬ 
tion concerning philosophical liberty, my business being only to 
point at the Mind’s Motiviti /, as a thing which I suppose not 
material. I must however confess, that the influence of Motives 
being undeniable, I am surprised to observe our liberty generally 
attempted to be defended on a contrary supposition ; whilst the 
nature of Motives themselves, does not appear to claim that atten¬ 
tion which I think they demand of us. 

Are Motives all of one nature and origin ? and is the Mind th 
mere sufferer of them all ? Or are they of two species, and does 
the Mind itself produce one species of them? 

As the Necessarian admits that external circumstances do not 
carry the point, unless with the disposition of the Mind itself, I rather 
think this virtually allows the Mind to be one source of Motives; 
which also, I feel, is just to Consciousness : and, if we mast do only 
what the disposition of our Minds forces us, we may admit the nomi¬ 
nal Mechanism of the fact, without the least questioning our philo¬ 
sophical liberty, which is the only liberty in dispute, The origin and 
nature of Motives appear to me important in this question, with 
which, however, I have here little to do; but must remark how hard 
it is to conceive that any Mind can act, with design , whether to 
make a mere Volition, or make a world, without being induced by a 
Motive, and that, inevitably, the strongest present Motive, And if 

h 


50 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. V. 


we are as free as Conception can figure of any Mind, what do we 
lack of Freedom ? 

This great stumbling-block of Philosophy seems to consist in our 
presumptuous Conceptions as to the means of prescience, and, in our 
yielding , even though we yield to nothing except ourselves , but I turn 
from it to more tangible considerations. 

SECTION II. ACTUAL POWER OF MIND. 

The actual Power of Mind, is the Power that both Acts, and with¬ 
holds Action; but, if all Motives are mere physical impulses, or if 
the Mind is a mere physical Organ, as the Brain, I should imagine 
they must operate physically, and in no other way. 

If the mere physical Action of the Body, brings on a mere physi¬ 
cal re-action of the Mind, I should expect such re-action must be 
instantaneous; and, unless it he qualified by some foreign check, it 
should be, in all cases, uniformly correspondent to the impulse. 

Now, nothing is more evident than that neither of these results 
is the character of a voluntary Act, though sometimes it may super¬ 
ficially appear to follow one ; and, it is equally certain, that an invo¬ 
luntary re-action of the Mind is not at all proportioned to the im¬ 
pulse of the Body; which last circumstance leads me to conjecture, 
that Mind imposes a check not physical, even where there appears to 
be only a mere physical re-action; and, from this, I incline to sup¬ 
pose, that a voluntary Act, and an involuntary one is radically , or 
motively, of the same nature. 


CHAP. V. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


51 


A long premeditated voluntary Act is extremely unlike a physical 
re-action of Matter. 

One Man strikes another, who has courage and would instantly 
return the blow; which, if he did, must, to a byestander , appear like 
a mere physical re-action ; but prudence holds his hand, and perhaps 
tranquillises his features. He may then be suffered to sleep ten 
thousand times; and, moreover, to forget the injury, long, and 
often, during his waking hours, until, after a lapse of thirty years, 
he meets the cowardly aggressor unprotected, and then corrects 
him. 

In this case we see, that the re-action, if it can be so called, takes 
place thirty years after the action ; and if Minds, and Motives, are 
both merely physical things, it is a very wonderful process. 

If a Man strikes a billiard ball against another, and should wait 
thirty years, or thirty minutes, to perceive the re-action, I imagine 
he would take it for something very new in physical experience. 

It will hardly be said that the Motive to Action only took place 
in the injured Man when he saw his enemy in his Power. The Mo¬ 
tive was Revenge. It has certainly existed, at many intervals, from 
the begining; and, if the Man had seen his enemy, every day it 
would every day have urged all its force; yet the Act would never 
have taken place till the Man willed it, it bein ^withheld by a check 
not physical , that of prudence, which is a mode of judgment. 

My object here, is to argue that the Mind, though physical in 
regard of its extension, is not materially so in regard of its Motivity . 
I contend not in this place to establish the philosophical liberty of 
Action, but to oppose any hypothesis that mere Brain, or matter 


52 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. V. 


any how modified, can Act by the same sort of Motivity with that 
of the Mind. 

It may indeed be conceived, that mental energy might, (by the 
pleasure of the Creator,) inhere the Brain ; but, as its particles are 
liable to change, the ablest Materialists do not contend for any such 
inherence. They make Mind the necessary result of cerebral Organi¬ 
sation ; consequently, in plain speech deny any such thing as Soul 
at all: and every sound argument against mere material agency in 
general, or against the agency of the Brain in particular, must ope¬ 
rate against Materialism, or against any Hypothesis of a transient 
Mind merely organic. 

SECTION III. VOLUNTARY AND INCONTINENT 
ACTS. 

If there is but one living Spring in the Mind, (as all our Actions 
seem to indicate,) it will follow, that though a moral distinction be¬ 
tween Actions is very just, there can be no philosophical or radical 
division of them, into voluntary and involuntary Acts, seeing that 
they all arise from one only source or Motivity; and, that in all of 
them, alike, the Mind Acts under the influence of the strongest pre¬ 
sent Interest. 

In a case of urgent physical stimulus, there follows an instant 
repulse or recoil. We call the Act involuntary, and justly liokl it 
no moral Act meriting reward or punishment. It was without de¬ 
sign and ignorant; having intervened betwixt the possibility of resolve, 
and the Body that it moved. 


ClIAP. V. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


53 


All this is granted ; but the Act was, nevertheless , spontaneous , or 
b} r Desire, which will be proved a species of Will, and as truly an 
exertion of the Mind's Motivity as if it had been planned an hour 
before. 

The fact is, it was an incontinent recoil , under sudden pressure; 
and its instantaneity and ignorance makes it inevitably a blind effort, 
which, therefore, passes as instinctive. But this must not lead us to 
suppose that there is a second and distinct spring in the Mind. 

It is obvious, that it is the instantaneity ,and consequent ignorance, 
of an Act that constitutes it involuntary and innocent; and, a single 
instant's design would make it rational. This being the sole differ¬ 
ence, leaves no room to suppose more than one Power of Action; 
and I feel a conviction, that an incontinent Act is equally spontaneous 
with a voluntary one. In either case alike we yield to the strongest 
impulse, though these impulses may be very different in their origin, 
and nature. 

The Pain from a hot iron touching a Man’s back, would be as 
truly a Motive, and would make him start with as much radical 
Will, as the Fear from a precipice suddenly seen before his face, 
though in the first case he would start ignorantly, as to conse¬ 
quences ; and, in the last one he might start rationally, knowing 
why, and how, he did start. 

The moral distinction between different Acts, being, nevertheless, 
highly proper, it appears only requisite, that in this inquiry I 
should apply the term incontinent , to all Acts usually termed involun¬ 
tary ; because, strictly speaking, agreeably to the unity of Mind, no 
Act can be involuntary in its origin. 


54 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. V. 


Automatic and compulsory Motions are excluded from present 
consideration, as these are not Acts at all, but mere bodily Motions 
under foreign impulses, in which the Mind has no part. 

SECTION IV. REASON AND INSTINCT ONE. 

After having once endured the prejudice that the Mind was ac¬ 
tuated by two distinct Powers, I came at length to think there is 
nothing within us that answers the character of Instinct. 

There is not in the Mind any Spring which blindly acts to 
arrange for our future existence on earth. 

There is not in the Mind any Spring which blindly acts for our 
present good, except that same Spring which rationally acts forour 
future good. 

Attention to what passes within during an incontinent Act, leaves 
me not the smallest doubt, that I act therein from the same mental 
Spring that I do in all cases. 

Properly speaking, Reason and Human Instinct, are not either of 
them Faculties or Powers, but only modes in which the Mind ope¬ 
rates. The Mind, itself, is an Agent, but none of its moods are 
Agents; or, if we chuse to call Reason the Agent because it is the 
wisest mood, then, Reason and Instinct are certainly identified, and 
are but different names for one single Spring, that operates differently 
under different circumstances. 

Radically considered, it is as truly reasonable to shrink under Pain, 
as to attend to any interesting proposition, or a string of propositions ; 
although, actively moving under Sensation is the humblest of rational 


CHAP. V. 


• HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


55 


Acts. Farther, it is undeniable that we suf fer Knowledge just aszve 
suffer Pain; which leaves little doubt that we move under both in 
the same way: and that both Pain and Knowledge operate on one 
only spring when they occasionally produce their respective conse¬ 
quent Actions. 

It is far from my intention to sink, or I may rather say, raise Rea¬ 
son into Instinct, and so confound them. I deny any such thing 
as Instinct in human Mind ; or, if I must adopt Instinct, and deny 
Reason, I shall not dispute about a term. 

With me, Man has no Motivity but that which belongs to Rea¬ 
son, and the Motivity of Reason acts from the beginning; and in 
all possible subsequent cases, which it must do if we would have it 
to be an essential function. 

In being essential, I think it should differ from Instinct of brutes, 
which belongs not to them, but is superadded to direct various low 
degrees of Reason which they also possess. Hence, an instinctive ani¬ 
mal is not accountable so far as instinctive, but a rational one justly 
may be so, exactly in the extent that his reasoning mood has operated, 
and no farther. Thus all crimes will be enhanced by deliberation. 

True Instinct , which is held so degrading to the possessor, can, in 
itself, be no Faculty of a finite Mind. It is only a manifestation of 
ineffable wisdom, the effects of which may every hour convince ra¬ 
tional Man, that there exists a living Power , infinitely greater, and 
wiser, than Reason or human Mind. 

So very occult are mental processes, that great diversity of opinion 
has unavoidably arisen ; but those who have thought originally, ap¬ 
pear to be comparatively not many. Few are led to consult their 


56 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. V. 


own Feelings, minutely , especially before they have become biassed 
by opinions, which they were prepared to respect. The thing, it- 
felf, appears presumptuous, rather than ingenious, and ire are 
naturally deterred. All this I have felt, and still feel, but I have, 
however, been carried into it; and, after what little I have gathered 
of Opinions concerning human Instinct, or Instincts, I am left bound 
in the persuasion that it was the same Faculty, which, on entering life, 
felt Pam, and re-acted a cry of distress, that in mature age, felt, and 
re-acted the Newtonian doctrine. 

A grosser mechanism than Mind may account for the very earliest 
effort to suck , and every subsequent effort, perhaps, proceeded from 
nothing short of the rational Faculty itself , operating in the very 
same way that it ever does, though with less Knowledge. Such; I 
am apt to think, is the humble beginning of the Acts of Reason, 
which, by repetition, variety, and the growing strength of the Body, 
becomes, daily, more capable of its proper functions. 

The impartial inquirer need care very little whether we apply the 
term Reason, or that of Instinct, to the Motive Faculty , provided we 
do not destroy the unity of the Agent , by supposing two.distinct 
Powers, or destroy Mind itself, by supposing no living Agency 
whatever. 


ciiap. vi. HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


57 


CHAPTER VI. 


OF THE CO-OPERATION OF MIND AND BODV. 


SECTION. I. AFFECTIONS. 

The particular manner in which the Mind acquires, connects, and 
enlarges its Ideas, is not an object of this inquiry. It is sufficient 
for my purpose to notice that they come originally from Nervous im¬ 
pulse; and the conscious manner of their first accession has been 
made evident by the writings of Mr. Locke. My object is to exa¬ 
mine, and in some sort to analise Consciousness, in order to show that 
it operates physically, that is, with proper Motion; consequently 
that the Thing which it inheres has the physical property Exten¬ 
sion. 

When we reflect upon the conscious Operations of the Mind, we 
find them consist of Affections, coming sensibly by Organs that are 
found to be external to Mind itself ; and of other Affections, which 
correspond and .ombine with the former, though the nature of the 
latter is no otherwise known than that they arise within the Mind, 
or some how proceed from it, as from a source. 

i 






58 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. VI. 


However the two species of mental sufferings may differ in origin, 
and in Feeling ; both are, unquestionably, Affections of one Percipient, 
and both equally liable to be re-felt in the process of Memory. 

In treating upon Mind, a general term is requisite to include both 
species of Affections, and signify, indefinitely, any instance of Con¬ 
sciousness. 

The word Idea, used in the extensive sense of Mr. Locke, seems 
fully to answer this end; and whatever censure it has incurred, I am 
humbly of opinion, that in adopting it, he entertained a just view of 
the constitution of the Mind. The objection then is, that he diverted 
the term from its original limited sense, and made it a general, when 
it has been thought he might have adopted another; but, as he has 
clearly expressed the latitude of the word, as used by him, I am not 
aware that his enlarged signification of it could lead to any serious 
error. I have, however, adopted the term Affection , to signify any 
sort of Consciousness whatever; and mental Affections naturally 
divide themselves into the two species already mentioned. Thus, 
External Affections, or Sensations and Ideas. 

Internal Affections, or mere intellectual Operations. 

If the term Affection requires to be defended, I take it to signify 
Alteration, and intend by it any Feeling which is a change. Thus 
I would indiscriminately say, a Man is changed, altered, or affected, 
in regard of his state of Mind. 

Now our cool assent to a proposition, our discernment of sameness 
or difference in two Ideas, or our successive steps of Memory prove, 
I apprehend, as truly an altered state of Mind, or, in other words, we 
are as truly, though not as extensively, affected by it, as by the most 


CHAP. VI. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


59 


violent Pain, or Passion; and as the term Affection has not, I be¬ 
lieve, been unalterably appropriated in the study of Mind, it may 
probably be suffered to serve the purpose here intended. 


SECTION II. FLEXIBILITY OF MIND. 

It has been supposed in Chapter IV, that physical Motion is the 
sole immediate occasion of Knowledge , or change in the Mind. 

During vigilance our mental Affections are continually at work; 
and, in ordinary we find several of them present , that is, co-existing 
or synchronous ; but their number , and shape , is ever varying. 

Some are continually giving way to others which succeed them, 
each differing without end , insomuch that, however strange it may 
appear, it is probable, (if we could ascertain the fact with strict ac¬ 
curacy ,) that we shall never have the like company of Motions, that 
is the like complex Motion, present with us a second time so long as 
we live. 

Many Affections, even complex ones, may return in what we may 
call their identity of forms, but in general we are sensible that these 
recur with some addition, diminution, or alteration of the aggregate 
Affection; and it may be shown that there must be at least a 
minute difference. 

As a proof that this is the case when we do not heed the difference, 
I may remark that Memory, which is one of the most frequent, as 
well as most permanent Affection we have, and most likely to recur 


60 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. VI. 


in exact similitude, is however, subject to great alteration ; and, at 
least, is continually approaching to obliteration. It must follow, that 
every succeeding remembrance of a thing differs from every preceding 
remembrance, however minute this difference may be. 

I think it easy to show the curious fact that the Mind can never 
be, either physically or consciously , in strictly a similar state a second 
time during life : but in this place I shall support only the truth of 
the physical position. 

The multifarious varieties of sensual Affections; the continual va¬ 
riation of the Sun’s light; the changes of atmosphere, and the chan¬ 
ges of temperature in external gross Bodies, are obvious reasons why 
no one of our external Senses may stimulate our Minds twice pre¬ 
cisely in the same way, even in two successive minutes; that is, ri¬ 
gidly speaking : and still more why all our Senses , taken together , can¬ 
not give a similar complex stimulus twice over. 

No object can appear of the same colour under any change of light, 
however small; and the same sort of argument holds good of Sounds , 
and throughout all the Senses , insomuch, that a moist or a cold stick 
must inflict a different stimulus from a dry or a hot one, when urged 
by the same physical force : and a horse, a hat, a shoe, or a tooth¬ 
pick, may, under circumstances , inflict a different degree of impulse 
every time we use it. 

The causes of continual change are multiplied when we necessa¬ 
rily take into this very complex account, that the irritability of the ner¬ 
vous system must be continually varying with the state of health, of 
secretion, of Motion, age, &c. And when all these several causes of 


CHAP. VI. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


61 


variety are considered operating together , I think it appears ex¬ 
tremely probable that the Mind, (considered as having extension,) 
may never be twice in precisely a similar physical complex state during 
life. 

This matter I am led into here, merely to express the exquisite 
physical flexibility of the Mind, that is, its flexibility under phy¬ 
sical impulses; but though this appears exquisite, it is not necessary 
to my Hypothesis to prove this extreme liability to minute changes. 
I must, nevertheless, think it beautiful when we contemplate it; and 
I must think it perfectly evident, when our attention is awakened to 
it, that the Mind performs a continued run of changes, from the 
beginning to the end of vigilant life. 

It is well known that Nature is so grandly rich in contrivance, 
that perhaps no two physical things are ever made precisely alike; 
but I do not know that any one has remarked the admirable men¬ 
tal capacity for continual change, that I am here endeavouring to 
illustrate, and which, I shall presently show, is as infinitely rich in 

conscious variety , as it here appears in its physical. 

* \ 

SECTION III. PARTITION OF AFFECTIONS. 

The remarkable circumstance that mental Affections are of two dis¬ 
tinct sources; the one sort arising externally, and the other inter¬ 
nally, in regard of Mind, is important to the view here taken of the 
subject. If the terms external and internal convey any meaning, 
they are relative terms, and imply the existence of some mental boun¬ 
dary , (some partition,) that divides external from internal. 


62 


ESSAY ON 


CIIAP. VI. 


External Affections are agreed to be the produce of physical 
mechanism. 

Internal Affections meet, and co-operate, nay, combine with external 
ones. 

Though neither species of impulse seem to change their origin, 
they coalesce to form complex Affections; which, being considered 
with a due regard to the speculation of an extended Mind , leads me 
to suppose some impenetrable partition which always supports the 
relations of external and internal. The popular, and indeed the 
universal usage of these expressions, may not afford any strength to 
the argument; but, at least, it should not surprise us to find, that in 
speaking as we feel, we speak with truth. 

SECTION IV. PLAY OF AFFECTIONS. 

If we attend to the process we shall perceive the Mind usually 
conscious of many co-existing, or synchronous affections, including 
both species. These are so many absolute intelligences to each of 
which is apposited a degree of Interest, the extent of which may be 
called quantity. By this I mean the amount of pleasure, or pain 
contained in any, or in all of our present affections at any given 
moment of time. 

This quantity may be made up by Interests of several weak Af¬ 
fections, both sensual and intellectual, or may be confined to a fezv 
strong ones. Nay, the whole sum of Interest that the Mind can 
take, at any one time, may be conveyed by one single Affection to the 
exclusion of all others. 


CHAP. VI. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


63 


Let a Man cast his eyes, lightly, upon a room full of various 
fruits or flowers , a Toyshop , or any numerous set of objects, and 
he shall instantly sustain a number of synchronous Sensations of 
vision only. But, besides his eyes, he has four, other external Senses 
all open at the same time to receive Affections; and, likewise, his 
intellectual trains of Ideas, Notions, fyc. Some of these Senses may, 
doubtless, be impressed synchronously with his eyes, especially the 
Senses of Hearing and Touch. It is necessary only that none of these 
should claim his partial interest; but that he should attend to, and 
embrace, the whole with nearly an equal Interest. 

In the ordinary or relaxed state of the Mind, the number of 
synchronous Affections is much greater , though the quantity of In¬ 
terest is less, than the Mind entertains in urgent cases; because, as 
the quantity of Interest increases, the number of present Affections 
must diminish. That is, in proportion as we get deeply interested by 
owe Affection, or by a few Affections, we either suddenly lose all 
the weaker, or we lessen and gradually lo'se all the weaker. 
And this with the greater certainty, or extent if the stronger Affec¬ 
tions are of an imperious Interest. 

SECTION V. LAW OF INTEREST IN AFFECTIONS. 

The capacity of the Mind, though great, is limited; and, if it 
becomes fully occupied by Interests, it then rejects all increase of 
Feeling. 

If it becomes thus fully occupied by several moderate Affections, 
of different degrees of Interest, and yet subject to another one, of 


64 , 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. VI. 


greater Interest. This strongest Affection (of whatever kind) will 
compel the weaker synchronous Affections to lessen , (each in 'proportion 
to its weakness;) and, if the strongest Affection be yet gradually 
augmented, it will instantly expel the weaker Affections, one after 
another , (the weakest always going first,) until the Mind will be left 
strained to extremity by one single imperious Feeling. 

The last mentioned process, which had frequently claimed my at¬ 
tention, I am brought to think, takes place under a great Law of 
our Nature ; which governs not only all present or synchronous Af¬ 
fections , but extends to controul all such as may, at any time,press 
for admittance. 

After tracing it extensively , it now appears to me striking, and uni¬ 
versally constant, though it does not seem ever to have claimed the 
attention of any other person, in the same light. And the Hypothesis 
which I have drawn, (as developed in Chapter VIII.) if it shall be 
found properly supported, may, perhaps, tend to place the subject 
in an original point of view. 

That strong mental Affections do overcome weak ones, and in many 
cases render us unconscious of them, is so far from being new, that 
no person is ignorant of it ; but I think it has never been investigated , 
as applicable to the present subject, nor shewn to be a process of an 
universal Law of Mind , which operates through every variety , and 
gradation , of Consciousness. A law which minutely embraces every , 
the smallest difference of Interest , and which never sleeps whilst we 
wake. 

All this, however, I think it will be found to do, and it here serves 
for the basis of a Superstructure , which must certainly fall if it fails 


chap. vr. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


65 


SECTION VI. NATURE OF INTEREST. 

The operation and extent of the Law of Interest, I think, only re* 
quires to be pointed out, to be acknowledged ; I shall therefore 
somewhat enlarge concerning it. 

It may also be well to notice in this place, that mental Interest 
has no necessary dependence upon Nervous Affection or Vibration, 
exclusively . It is conscious Interest alone that gives Law. 

Fear, or other Passion arising from the delicate Vibration of a 
Man's Optic Nerve , shall instantly occasion the Mind to expel an 
hundred other Affections, and strong sensible Pain amongst the rest, 
if it had been present. 

An extreme occupancy of Mind , may take place from any one of a 
great variety of single Affections ; as one instance of which I may 
mention sensible Pain , though the Interest of intellectual Pain may 
be equally strong. 

The gradual augmentation of sensible Pain will be found to eVr- 
pel weaker Affections, in the order of their weakness , until no Con¬ 
sciousness shall remain in the Mind, except that of Pain and a 
Desire for ease. 

Again, if from a state of sensitive agony , the Mind be gradually 
relaxed , we shall then have it gathering back Affections of ordinary 
Interest, (if their occasions be present,) and shall observe, that they 
return in the precise reverse order of their departure. That is to 
say, Affections of strongest pressing Interest , (if marry be* pressing,) 
will gain admittance first, and so on, until, by the time that Pain is 

K 


66 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. VI. 


wholly removed, the Mind becomes capable of resuming a large 
synchronous groupe of the most trivial Affections. 

All this will happen without any necessary or exclusive preference 
to nervous force, because intellectual forces have equal claims , and 
can equally overpower the sensual. 

ijSS'/GU • v ' Li. r 

SECTION VII. WEAK INTERESTS. 

During the ordinary or lax state of our Minds we do not perceive 
tne operation of the Law. On the contrary, owing to the Mind's 
flexible capacity , the succession of Affections appears merely acci¬ 
dental , and playful, as to number and relative force; the stronger ones 
not seeming to interfere with the weaker. It is not until the Mind 
logins to he considerably occupied by Interest that we discern the 
effect, which extends alike to both species of Affections ; and the 
more the Mind approaches to extreme occupancy or distress , the 
more strikingly, (though not the more certainly,) we perceive the dis¬ 
play of that government under which Affections, of all kinds, enter 
the Mind, remain in it, or are expelled it, with infallible certainty, 
and mechanical gradation, in the order of their conscious strength , 
or conscious weakness. 

SECTION VIII. POWER OF INTEREST. 

To show the unlimited Power , and extent , of this Law, I need only 
refer to the known expulsions of various Affections, produced by 
heroism , by cowardice , by sensible Pain , or by intellectual Passion of 


CHAP. VI. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


67 


any sort. Either of these, being present , may root out every tveaker 
tenant of Mind; and this is so universally known, that it only re¬ 
mains for me to show that the same Law operates also in the finest 
possible gradations , down to the most evanescent state of Conscious^ 
ness, wherein we cannot measure its gradual steps. 

I have already said, that in the lax state of the Mind the process 
usually escapes detection; and it is obvious that if we were to en¬ 
deavour to trace every step whereby a company of frivolous Affections 
was expelled, we have no scale wherewith to measure their respective 
Interests. Whilst the susceptibility of the Mind is too delicate, and 
too much at the mercy of a thousand accidents , to admit our delecting 
each individual Affection in its exit; and all this, especially, if the 
group be numerous , and nearly of equal Interests. 

SECTION IX. ACCIDENTAL AND LEGAL CASES. 

If any sudden impulse affects us, (even though but moderately,) 
the common result is that several light Affections start off at once ; 
and here their flight may be either accidental, or what I shall call 
legal , and it is proper to distinguish between these two cases. 

If a poor hungry Boy casts his eyes toward the enticing variety of 
a Confectioner, and another urchin should wantonly twitch his 
elbow, the first will probably turn round, and thus expel a group of 
interesting sensual Affections : nay farther, he will, probably, for a 
moment exclude also, not only the Memory of these objects , but even 
the uneasiness of hunger , and its Desire for delicacies. 

In the first supposed part of this case the expulsion of the visual 


6'8 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. VI. 


Affections is purely accidental; because, by the Boy turning round 
they are put out of the line of his Vision, consequently beyond the 
Law, which it is plain cannot operate except upon present and 
pressing objects. 

But the Memory of these Sensations , and the uneasiness of hunger 
arc legally , (though abruptly,) expelled , they being driven out by 
the painful Interest of chagrin, or displeasure, at being turned 
by impertinence from his object. 

But again, if this poor Boy be suffered to feast his eyes, until he 
gradually and at length completely loses a prior Consciousness that 
his feet are cold, lacerated, zcet, and painf ully weary. If also he be¬ 
comes, gradtially, insensible to noises and other impulses from the 
street, and forgets that he lingers on his errand under certainty of 
punishment; we have, here, the regular progressive operation, step by 
step, of the great Law of Interest. This enables the Boy’s augmenting 
uneasiness and desire for delicate food, first to lessen, and, at length, 
to obliterate the conscious impressions of the several weaker Interests 
that are, nevertheless, still urging their considerable respective forces , 
both externally and internally. 

It is certainly true, that by far the most frequent occurrence in 
life is that of sudden or accidental expulsion, arising from changes in 
the Motions of our Bodies, or Organs, and from the continual 
changes of external things, as well as of our own Thoughts within. 
Ilence, in most cases a group of light Affections are sent out of the 
Mind at once, without the least difference in time; and, in such 
cases ‘the gradual operation of the Law of interested succession 
never can become manifest, which may be the reason why it has, 


CHAP. VI. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


69 


hitherto, escaped being taken up in the light in which I now hold 
it. It is, however, easy to trace this Law through every sensible 
difference in conscious Affections, when once our notice is attracted 
in this direction. 

• , ■ • i,);) . 

SECTION X. GRADUAL PROCESS OF THE LAW. 

. • ' r . . / v. \Ai 

What I would here particularly insist is, that an Interest in one 
object does not necessarily drive out the Consciousness or Interest 
of another, or others ; but that it either lessens, or else drives out, the 
others, according as the several Interests are less or more different 
in strength. 

If a Man, during continued Pain, reads an interesting author, or 
thinks of some good in store, this will certainly solace him, but as 
certainly will not drive away the Pain. It will merely lessen his sense 
of it: but if the Pain be little, and the author very interesting, the 
Man may indeed lose all sense of Pain at many intervals of mere 
intellectual Interest. 

A Man will feel Pain, but certainly a lesser Pain, if wounded in 
rescuing a parent, a child, or any one whom he dearly loves. 

I contend, that Ideas in the Mind, are not like buckets in a Well, 
that when one is in, the other must be out. The Mind is more like 
a temple with many doors ; and many votaries may be present at once, 
though the assembly is continually changing. 

If a Man walk the streets, light, careless, and susceptible, every 
passing object furnishes him groupes of Affections of little import; 
but if he sees a harsh creditor, a deadly enemy, or a shocking disas- 


70 


ESSAY ON 


CIIAP. VI. 


ter; or if any sudden Pain invade , then, the lighter classes of objects 
will cease to affect him. He will still notice objects for all useful 
purposes, and recognise acquaintance if he meets them ; yet there are 
hundreds of trivial Sensations, that before reached his Mind, and that 
now press on the organs without effecting any Consciousness. 

But, if this Pain or Care should augment, the Man will grow 
less and less conscious of the Characters, Colours, Figures, Motions, 
sounds, &c. to which his Organs are exposed ; and, in the same pro¬ 
portion lose Consciousness of all his intellectual Affections, except 
that, or those, which imperiously hold possession. This process will 
have reached its limit when any one Pain, or Passion, is so power¬ 
ful, as for the moment to expel and exclude all other intelligences ; 
as happens during moments of sudden agony of any sort, Sensual or. 
Intellectual. 

Here the gradual operation of the Law is perceived by its repul¬ 
sion through a great variety of Feelings ; and we can have no doubt 
of its operation through every the smallest gradation, down to Af¬ 
fections of the most minute Interest or possible Consciousness. At 
the same time it is obvious, that it repels and expels Affections in 
precisely the same way. 

Let a person in gaiety of Mind enter a brilliant theatre, and he 
will sustain a numerous group of external Affections playfully, along 
with a succession of light Ideas, and Intellectual Thoughts. But if 
either sensible or intellectual Pain begin to annoy him, and gradually 
increase its Interest, the number of synchronous Affections will gra¬ 
dually decrease, and this process may be carried so far that the pa¬ 
tient shall, at length, lose not only Memory of the past, and Interest 


CHAP. VI. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


71 


in the present; but shall become insensible to all he sees and hears, 
and, in a state of agony be carried forth, ignorant of the means, and 
the persons, employed to convey him. 

In the gradual steps of such a process we should find, that the first 
set of intelligences which would fly off consists of frivolous visual, 
and auditory ones. These probably, being so very minute , would dis¬ 
appear at once , and leave the Mind moderately occupied by a few 
visual, auditory, and other intelligences, of some Interest; such as a 
fine Woman, or a fine singer. Here, when the Pain still augments, 
it would be found, that the interesting Affections do not fly off and 
disappear at once, like the first frivolous set. On the contrary^ they 
would still maintain their ground, as Intelligences ; but their Inte¬ 
rests would grow less, and as Pain increases they become still less 
observed, until at length they gradually disappear, the strongest 
of them being the last that goes. 

During great Pain, yet short of agony, the finest singer, or the finest 
face, may be perceived without the least pleasing Interest; but either 
may be merely perceived until we are on the verge of extremity. And 
here we are to recollect, that agony or extremity, (which alone is 
capable of banishing ordinary Sense,) is a state that rarely occurs, 
and never can last long. It is no impeachment of the Law of In¬ 
terest that a Man may be collected during the amputation of a 
limb; and that another may find indolence on the rack; because it is 
undeniable that the Nerves can convey moments of torture so extreme 
as to banish both Sense and Reason; and Fear, or other Passion, can 
do as much. 


72 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. VI. 


If a sensible, but susceptible Man, unexpectedly enters a room 
wherein is a Woman whom he loves with sentiment and diffidence , he 
will be confused, and scarce flexible to ordinary converse with the 
company. But, if agonizing chance place him next his earthly 
divinity, he shall become a spectacle of compassion , and lose not only 
Memory or coherence , but appetite itself, and Power of articulation. 
He may essay to speak, but will fail, and prove the laughing stock of 
those who have not half his Intellect , nor humane sensibility. 

Men, in the ardour of fight, or of field sports, often receive con¬ 
siderable injury, without being sensible of it till the business be at an 
end. So much does intellectual interest occasionly overcome sen¬ 
sual interest. 

Men closely pursued by apparent destruction of any sort, do 
often evince an insensibility to sensitive pressing impulses in a degree 
incredible to those who never experienced the like. 

In short, it is impossible to condescend upon any case of Mental 
occupancy , ordinary or extraordinary, in which the law of Interest 
is not manifested, provided we attend strictly to the truth of the 
process, and do not suffer ourselves to be deceived by a superficial 
and false view of it, which, however, is very liable to happen in 
many cases. 

SECTION XI. EXTRAORDINARY INTERESTS. 

It is no contradiction of the law that Persons are known, some¬ 
times, in cases which we should think awfully serious, yet occu- 


CHAP. VI. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


73 


pied by Interests of the most contemptible general estimation, in¬ 
somuch as to overlook what we might think ought to affect them 
beyond every other. 

I once saw a malefactor kick off his shoes amongst the populace, 
just before he was suspended; and he then met his fate with a sort 
of triumph. Here there can be no doubt that his Uneasiness lest he 
should be thought to flinch, or his desire to show game in the eyes 
of the mob, lessened, if it did not expel, what little degree of Fear he 
w r ould have felt in rushing into the presence of his Creator : and, to 
die game was the strongest Interest in his depraved Mind. 

This instance may serve, in the room of a thousand, to show us 
that the strongest Interest in the Mind, in any situation of life, may 
be very different from what a spectator might expect, 

A Man may lose a friend or a kingdom for a pun ; and may jest 
in pain, or smile in death; but each of these acts is the result of a 
momentary Interest stronger than any other then in his Mind. And 
each, for the moment, lessens other present Interests, so as to admit 
the act, though it need not expel all the Interests which it over¬ 
balances. 


74 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. VII. 


CHAPTER VII. 


OF THE CAPACITY OF THE MIND FOR SYNCHRONOUS PERCEPTIONS. 


SECTION I. AN IDEA IS A GROUPE OF IDEAS 

So far is the Law of synchronous and successive Interests from 
having yet attracted the notice of the world, that an opinion has, 
indeed, been advanced in our own time, by a respectable writer, 
that the Mind cannot perceive more than one object or Idea at a 
time. And though this position has already been opposed by others, 
and I believe opinions are sufficiently against it, yet those who hold 
for synchronous Perceptions do not carry their views to any thing 
like the extent of the facts, nor in the least notice the order of their 
government. 

So much is this the case, that I deem it necessary to examine the 
position which I have advanced, lest there may be others who think 
that the Mind cannot perceive more than one object or Idea at a 
time, though nothing appears to me more easy for any one than to 
perceive the contrary. 






CHAP, VII. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


75 


If, indeed, the Minds Perception was so limited, how inflexible 
a Being must it appear ? and how little adapted to admit that play¬ 
fulness of sensations , Ideas , and intellectual Affections , which seem 
in our gaiest and happiest moments to run riot, uncontrouled ; 
tumbling on in various successive and desultory groupcs , which 
may be compared, rather, to shoals of fish sporting synchronously , 
and in succession , through the same portion of a yielding fluid. 

A Mind so exquisitely constituted that (it can be easily proved) 
may never be twice either in a similar physical or conscious complex 
state during life, can scarcely be thought so obdurate as to admit only 
one impulse at a time. 

But what is more, a complex Idea , (letting alone a set of complex 
Ideas,) becomes impossible in a Mind which only perceives one sim¬ 
ple Idea at a time. And if one Idea is not supposed one simple 
Idea , it should be specified how many Ideas are allowed to make 
one such Idea or object. 

The succession of thought is confessedly most rapid: and the 
succession of one complex Idea or affection at a time might often 
serve our requisite purposes. It is true that in this way is made up 
that useful chain commonly called the train of our thoughts ; such 
as Horse , Cart , Commerce , Civilization. Each brought in by its 
preceding Idea: but each of these is much more than one Idea, for 
each is a group of Ideas or objects, and even such complex Ideas of 
one sense do not , in the least, express the capacity of the Mind to en¬ 
tertain synchronous or co-existing affections. 

I apprehend the term Idea or object to be aver}" vague expres¬ 
sion, which if it be admissible in any other sense, is not so in such a 


76 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. VII. 


view of the subject as I am taking; but I shall submit the Mind to 
such tests as I think will establish the fact. 

SECTION II. PROOF OF SYNCHRONOUS VISION. 

The capacity for rapidity of successive visual Sensations appears to 
have been nearly ascertained by an experiment of Dr. Herschel; 
and, at the utmost, does not exceed 320 Sensations in a second of time. 
But, if a Man open his eyes upon a basket full of bird seeds , or a 
plate of fish roe , he will perceive Sensations from many hundred 
separate particles, at the same instant, that is synchronously. And he 
may perceive an army , or a landscape, in precisely the same way, 
(though he cannot so examine each individual of the group ;) because, 
as every body knows, a Battalion of Soldiers at the distance of a few 
hundred yards, does not present a greater Vision than so many 
Peas near the eye. 

Thus, even if the Mind could be supposed deceived by Feeling 
those Sensations as synchronous, which are in reality successive, a (de¬ 
ception not conceivable when the fact belongs to itself,) we here 
find the possible progress of Vision not near sufficently rapid, to run 
in succession over many hundred objects, (one at a time,) and com¬ 
plete its task in the lapse of a conscious nozo or instant; during w'hich, 
we are not the least sensible of any succession whatever. 

It is evident, from the experiment of Dr. Herschel, that if the eye 
could be supposed to travel over a basket of seeds with greater ra¬ 
pidity than at the rate of 320 seeds in a second, the seeds would not 
be perceived in separate particles, but only continuously, as one 


CHAP. VII. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


77 


uniform surface ; and we never should be able by such means to dis¬ 
cover that it was a heap of seeds , nor to arrive at any such visual 
intelligence. 

Successive Vision of present objects with such rapidity, would 
cause a dish full ©f Peas, or Gooseberries, to appear as if covered 
by a green cloth. And, in a word, all objects which should appear 
in diversity , must in successive Vision quicker than 320 in a second 
appear in unity , or as one continued object. 

On the other hand, if twenty musical instruments should happen 
t© strike truly at once it would not affect our ears synchronously , be¬ 
cause, by the reasoning I oppose, it would be necessary that they 
should act truly in succession to make us hear them, as we think , 
synchronously. 

Such a mode of perception would lead to endless mistakes in life, 
and we may safely conclude that in perceiving synchronously the 
Senses do not travel in the least, but that we can perceive a large 
group of visual Sensations or Ideas at any instant of time. 

On this question we must never overlook, that when we see objects 
in succession as rapidly as the eye can take , which may be 320 in a 
second, we are fully sensible of succession , but when we see many 
millions of points of colour synchronously reflected by a yard of 
printed cloth, zvhich is the rigid fact, we have no Sense of Succession 
at all. 

As it is certain that the eye embraces millions of millions of rays of 
colour at once , it would be necessary to show that the Mind travels 
over all those millions in succession to see them apparently at once; 
or else, to shew how many of these rays are the standard that makes 


78 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. VII. 


one Idea or object. And if one object be supposed to contain one mil¬ 
lion of rays, it should be assigned, at a given distance, how many of 
these millions are the measure of a grenadier, or a grain of gunpowder. 

But by the same reasoning no man ever saw any great object at 
once, because if one can see no more than one ray, or one million of 
rays at once, then, when the eye has travelled over a Church till we get 
to the point of the spire, we only find out it is a Church by remem¬ 
bering past Visions. This apparent Vision would be no other than 
some millions of successive Ideas tacked by Memory to one minute 
particle of real Vision , which I think will scarce be defended. 

Whilst the eyes are lightly occupied by several hundred objects, 
the other four external Senses are open to the assaults of their 
proper impulses, and what should prevent some of them from 
reaching the sensorium ? A partial interest in a few, or in one of them, 
is the only cause that can expel the others ; but in this case the man 
is not to be interested partially. lie is only to keep open all the 
doors of his Perception, and try if he can possibly perceive more than 
one thing at a time, and I think I may trust to his success. 

SECTION III. SYNCHRONOUS IDEAS OFTEN 
NUMEROUS. 

I have subjected the question to these unnecessary tests, although 
I think we need not have gone beyond our Feelings for a decision, 
because those Affections must be synchronous that we consciously 
feel to be so, even if it could be shewn that the physical impulses 
that produce them were successive. Now there is no plain man, I 


CHAP. VII. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


79 


dare say, but feels that he can see a complex spectacle, (which, in fact, 
consists of millions of things,) and hear a numerous band of musical 
instruments at the same moment; besides entertaining some other 
light Sensations , and some mere intellectual Affections. 

If Vision of present objects was not meant by nature to be Syn¬ 
chronous, and if successive Vision be the only fact, I may ask' why is 
the optic Nej've expanded t© receive the synchronous impressions of 
Millions of objects, such as form a Landscape ? 

The truth is, that it is necessary to our convenience and even to our 
safety, that our Senses should receive a large group of objects syn¬ 
chronously, though it is not necessary that we should examine them 
synchronously. And Providence has bountifully’afforded us the 
requisite power, without any superfluity. 

Perhaps enough has been advanced to set the question at rest, 
and to establish that the Mind is not like a Well which can receive 
only one bucket at a time. But that it is like a Theatre with several 
doors, each of which can receive a number of comers at once, and all 
the doors taken together give admittance, and exit, to a vast number 
of synchronous objects. 

Whilst each of the three grosser Senses are open to a. few, the 
Sense of Hear may receive many ; and, at the same time, Vision 
can entertain many Millions. There is no reason whatever to 
suppose that those which come in at one door necessarily give the 
least hindrance to those entering at the others. 

When we are abroad, gay, cheerful, susceptible, and bustling, the 
number of present objects will be very great, though always playfully 
varying. 


80 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. VJI. 


Darkness : silence : pain : passion, and certain other general cir¬ 
cumstances will, either of them, reduce the number of synchronous 
Affections to a very few, in some of which cases Memory will drag 
on its chain of complex things, link bj link, and we may then be 
said, in some sort, to perceive but one thing at a time, though each 
of those things is really a group of ideas, and many of each group 
is by itself a group insomuch that, strictly speaking, it truly re¬ 
quires abstraction for the Mind to perceive only one thing at a 
time. 

To compare two visible objects that are at any distance from each 
other, it is necessary to examine each alternately, that is, to examine 
one thing at a time. But examining, and comparing, are quite dif¬ 
ferent processes from merely perceiving. It appears of the highest 
utility to Man that he has a large field of perception in all the senses 
at once, with capacity to perceive their several respective objects 
loosely at the same instant, although he has not Power to examine 
and compare them at once. 

Both examining and comparing are Acts of the Mind, in Avhich 
Will exerts Intention. But mere perceiving is no Act, and is only 
suffering. 

I do not argue to shew merely that the Mind can perceive more 
than one, two, or three things at once, but to establish beyond doubt, 
that it may be struck at the same moment by a considerable number 
of intelligences, every one of zvhich may be complex, and possessing 
different degrees of Interest. 

So far is Mind from being limited to one thing at a time, that, to 
form any approaching conception of its capacity, I think we must 


CHAP. VII. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


81 


strain Imagination toward the most extensive . and most diversified 
capabiliti / of synchronous , as well as of successive Affections. 

Mind appears, on the whole, a Reality of perfect simplicity, adapted 
to purposes of infinite variety. 

What Tongue can speak the Power of its Creator ? 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. VIII. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


OF THE PHYSICAL STRUCTURE OF THE MIND. 

. .i-.i- ■■■ — 


SECTION I. PHYSICAL INFERENCE CONCERNING 
MIND. 

The speculative probability that a physical Body requires an ex¬ 
tended Mind ; the certain evidence of the great Law of Interest , 
which governs all mental Affections; and the consideration that 
mental Affections, (though all governed by one Law,) arise from two 
opposite sources , one physical the other intellectual. All these cir¬ 
cumstances countenance an Hypothesis that the Mind is figured , 
like a tangible Body, and one of these considerations, (that of the 
Law of Interest,) has suggested to my conception a difinitive 
shape under which it may operate. 

(A supposition (whatever may be its fate,) that has afforded me 

much innocent amusement, and beguiled melancholy reflections. 

' : r< 

Though I have suffered the pursuit of it to prey, occasionally, upon 
my Imagination and health, it has made me considerable return in 
the way of pleasure, and I hope I shall in no case regret my labour, 
provided it prove acquitted of any pernicious tendency. 






chap. vm. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


83 


SECTION II. OCCASION OF THE HYPOTHESIS. 

Several years ago, on my perusal of Mr. Locke's Essay on Hu¬ 
man Understanding, that passage wherein he likens the succession 
of Ideas to the rotation of figures in a lanthorn, appeared to me a 
playful conceit wherein a scientific Mind had descended to a physi¬ 
cal simile of a mental process, whilst he must have perceived that such 
simile was not only vague, but quite incapable of being extended. 

Perhaps he would have considered the attempt ridiculous ; but. 
spite of all that learning or prejudice can do, this momentary sally 
proves how like some mental processes are to physical processes, 
insomuch that the most acute human genius cannot help making 
such comparisons. 

Here I cannot avoid commenting on the tenor of language usee, 
in treatises on Mind, even by those authors who have been most 
studious to restrict their expressions. 

I know not any writer who has not made use of terms that 
might suit a river , a storehouse , or a piece of mechanism ; and then, 
with a marvellous injustice, language is always blamed as the de¬ 
faulter, whilst we are conscious that it is Conception itself that is to 
blame. 

I would rigidly demand of any one, who writes concerning a 
Mind which has no relation to place , that he shall use no term, nor 
Conception, that bears any relation to place , and then I shall think 
he writes consistently, whether truly or the contrary. 

A Man may use physical language improperly , but he is bound to 


84 


ESSAY ON 


chap. vnr. 


physical language no farther than he is bound to physical Concep¬ 
tions : therefore, independent of the novelty , it might be entertaining 
to try how far he can go without the use of such degrading Concep¬ 
tions. 

Without noticing any gross use of physical language I will just 
take an instance of a delicate implication, because it is, in this view, 
unobjectionable, and recently used by an authority already mentioned. 
We find the expression of “ Notions being presented to our thoughts." 
Now, an Act of presentation requires a local presence of both the 
offering and the Being to whom it is offered. 

Here, it is not the language , but the conception , of an accomplished 
Philosopher that indicates this local existence of both Thought, and 
Mind : and I select this instance especially, because I think many 
readers might overlook the physical Conception it implies. It will 
appear from such cases how fast we are bound to the Conception of 
a physical Mind. 

A Philosopher who advocates Non-extension is as imperiously 
bound as a Peasant to believe that his Thoughts run in his animal 
system , and no exertion can enable the one, or the other, to believe 
that his Reason exists in his Horse , or in the Moon. 

And, if both were racked by the gout, the Philosopher would, per¬ 
haps, show as little belief as the Clown, on being reminded, that 
upon his own principles his Pain truly does not exist any where. 

I do not here intend to enter into matter of speculation; but may 
venture to assert, practically , that there is not a single advocate for 
Non-extension but whose daily Language, Conceptions, Concerns, 
and Actions, directly imply the locality of his Mind. Therefore I 


CIJAP. VIII. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


85 


cannot conceive a more confessed inconsistency than for him to 
suppose that his Mind is no nearer to his Body, than it is to the planet 
Saturn. 

It is worthy of remark, that whilst Dr. Priestley affects to praise 
Mr. Baxter’s argument of the Soul’s having no relation to place, 
as the only consistent scheme of immaterialism; we find him, not¬ 
withstanding, quote Mr. Baxter himself, as talking of the Soul 
being confined by the Body; of the Soul’s being set at liberty; of 
its indulging itself by abandoning the body during sleep ; and of 
other Spirits getting into its place , by which means, he thinks, we 
have dreams. Is it not wonderful that a Man directly asserts the 
Soul’s locality and frequent change of place, (as grossly as one would 
change his lodging,) and yet concludes that the Soul does not exist 
any where , and has no relation to place whatever. I should rather 
incline to think after Dr. Price, that Mr. Baxter could not have really 
held such conclusion; but if he did , his arguments and conclusion 
together form an inconsistency too gross to require farther comment. 

If names might serve instead of arguments, the name of Newton 
may be mentioned in favour of an extended immaterial Mind ; and 
I think it probable that he had considered the subject with a bent of 
that transcendent sagacity which distinguished him. 

It is quite unnecessaty to swell this volume of inconsistency, 
though I imagine it might be carried to any length we chose, inso¬ 
much, that it can be nothing short of the most inveterate prejudice 
for any one to maintain the Hypothesis of non-relation to place, 
until he can find a language, and a conception , that will at least 
admit its possibility. 


86 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. VIII. 


So completely is the understanding hoodwinked by the prejudice 
of a non-extended Mind, that if, by a miracle, it should prove other¬ 
wise, we dare not venture to open our eyes to perceive it. It hap¬ 
pens however in regard of myself, not having the advantage of early 
study, that a persuasion of the Minds extension did soon overcome 
what hearsay I had first imbibed on the subject; and being one day 
struck by a similitude which I, at first, viewed with no greater inter¬ 
est than I suppose Mr. Locke did his lanthorn, I however gave it 
a momentary consideration; and, in that moment perceived what 
appeared to me an increasing claim to attention. 

It has been already noticed, that I had repeatedly been struck by 
the facts of stronger affections overcoming weaker ones ; and had 
come to observe that such operations were extensive, and often gra¬ 
dual or regular. Now, my vague persuasion that the Mind must 
be somehow extended, led me at times (though not a mechanist) to 
view these facts with a mechanical eye ; and to consider how such 
operations might physically be carried on. But still, in so doing, I 
had no expectation of forming any conception that should induce 
me to engage seriously on the subject. 

At length, however, the following conception occurred to me, at 
first imperfectly, but quickly developing itself to form a definitive 
Idea. 

SECTION III. FOUNDATION OF THE HYPOTHESIS. 

If a Man take any inflated flexible Ball between his hands, and 
press it, on all sides, with the ends of his ten divided fingers, each 
acting with a different degree of force ; he shall find, that the finger 


CHAP. VIII. 


87 


HUMAN cdNSCIOUSNESS. 

which presses strongest will make the deepest Flexure in the Ball; 
and all the other fingers will be deep in proportion each to its own 
degree of pressure. And, if the Man varies the pressure, and also 
increases it, he shall observe, that by urging any one finger, very 
much , the Flexures made by the other fingers will begin to lessen, 
until at length the smallest Flexure will wholly disappear, and all 
the others in succession, (the weakest or smallest continually going 
first) although their respective pressures are still acting upon the 
Ball. 

In other words, by variously applying the pressures upon different 
points of the Ball, it will follow with mechanical precision , that 
strong forces affect, lessen, and, at length, obliterate the impressions 
ox Flexures made by weaker forces; in a similar order to what takes 
place incases of present and pressing external affections in the Mind 
itself. 

Again, if the different forces be still applied to the flexible Ball; 
and if the strongest pressing force is made to relax gradually, we 
shall then have the weaker forces re-producing the same Flexures 
or hollows which they had lately lost; precisely in the reverse order of 
their departure. Being in the very same way that weak affections re¬ 
impress the Mind (if their impulses be present) on the gradual 
relaxation of strong Affections. 

The similar order of these facts, as governed on the physical 
organ, to the order of Perceptions governed in the Mind, is so 
correct, striking, and widenmble , that I think it will be admitted 
without hesitation. 

The similitude is not only correct, but already appears extensive. 



88 


ESSAY ON 


CIIAP. VIII. 


We may, however, quickly perceive it carried much farther ; for iff 
during the several pressures on the exterior of the flexible inflated 
Ball, we should increase the inflation, or else contrive other various 
pressures against its interior Surface , then the whole mixed group of 
Flexures would still be subject to the same Law or order, of enlarg¬ 
ing , lessening , coming , and going: exactly as happens with both spe¬ 
cies of Affections in the Mind itself. 

This last proposition would hold good, even, if the internal pres¬ 
sures were of a particular nature like the external ones. But, it 
would appear to afford more complete similitude of Action if the 
internal pressures on the Ball were of an obtuse , distending, or more 
general nature than the external ones : and I shall have to argue the 
probability, (from many facts,) that they really are so in the Mind 
itself. 

What is here advanced is, perhaps, sufficient to introduce the 
main Hypothesis in this inquiry. 

Having held in contemplation the physical process above described, 
with such feeble consideration as I was enabled to afford it, and be¬ 
ing convinced of the similitude in mechanical effects , the result was 
my determination to amuse myself by tracing the Human Mind 
physically , as possessing the nature of & flexible Spherule , so far as I 
should find such Hypothesis supported by conscious and physicalfacts. 

A mere phantom of Imagination, it is true; but having for its 
basis a Law of our Nature , which I take to be as certain , extensive , 
and invariable , as any physical Law whatever. I mean that which 
I have already set forth as the great mental Law of Interest in 
Affections. 


chap. vin. HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


89 


SECTION IV. THE HYPOTHESIS. 

The Human Mind is a flexible Spherule. 

Upon this Hypothesis pests the Superstructure raised here 
throughout. 

SECTION V. LESSER SUPPOSITIONS. 

The foregoing Hypothesis includes the following. 

1. The Mind is exquisitely flexible in Surface, but immutable and 
impenetrable in Substance. 

2. The Surface of the Mind, when not affected, is perfectly uni¬ 
form, and is in contact , throughout, with nervous influence , or -per¬ 
haps some elementary Matter; this last being the medium of its 
co-operation with the Body and external World. 

3. Mind possesses a limited or qualified Motivity , moving not un¬ 
til Nerve has acted upon it; but, being duly moved, it displays a 
‘peculiar limited Power of varying and regulating its own Motions ; 
and of giving new sorts of Motion to the Body which first moved it. 

4. When the external force wholly ceases the Action of the Mind 
is necessarily included ; and it moves no more until Nerve stimulates 
again. 

5. If, during a state of rest, any nervous stimulus press strong 
enough to produce any Motion, t his must occasion inequality or Flexure, 
in the Surface of Mind; and such Flexure is accompanied by an in- 


90 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. VIII. 


stance of Perception, whereby Mind is apprised of its own existence, 
or waked to Feeling and Action. 

If those who entertain the opinion that Mind is always active, 
should be offended by the fourth position, I am not inclined to enter 
into the argument here. They will, doubtless, grant that Mind, in 
its present state, is dependent on the Body to a certain extent; and 
if it could be proves! that we think always, (which I shall not here 
dispute,) it would not injure either the foundation, or superstructure, 
of the present Hypothesis. 

SECTION VI. CAPACITY, AND REGION, OF 
PERCEPTION. 

Noav, if the Mind be supposed to possess the figure , and texture , 
of -a flexible spherule , it appears admirably adapted to receive any 
number of co-existing or synchronous Flexures , on both sides of its 
surface; and to entertain all conceivable varieties of them, in number , 
form , and degree , so long as any capability of flexure remains. 

It is equally adapted to receive any, or all of these varieties of 
Flexures in scccession, with a rapidity, greater or less, in proportion as 
theMutiojisoi such Flexures are, in themselves,physically greater ox less. 

Examining ourselves, we shall find our Perception equally alive to 
Affections of internal and external origin ; and that it is bound to 
suffer any number, variety, and degree, of impressions of both species, 
until the Mind becomes so tensely occupied that no more feeling can 
be inflicted by any augmentation oi force. 


CHAP. VIII. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


91 


It has here been advanced, and will be farther illustrated, that all 
these Affections in the Mind are governed in the same order that 
Flexures are governed in a gross, flexible , inflated Ball. 

The inference here is plain, and I must suppose the surface of Mind 
to be the region of Perception ; and the operation called percep¬ 
tion of Sensation to be produced with a Motion in that surface: 
whilst Impression, or Flexure, is not supposed to be a cause f but only 
a physical concomitant of intelligence of any sort. 


92 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. IX 


CHAPTER IX. 


OF THE GENERAL NATURE OF THE FLEXURE AND REPULSION OF THE 

MIND. 


SECTION I. PHYSICAL DEFORMITY OF THE MIND. 

During insensibility the Mind is supposed to be rotund and equal; 
and every possible instance of Consciousness is accompanied by Mo¬ 
tion, which must produce inequality of its Surface : which inequalities 
I shall henceforward call Flexures in Perception. 

The figures, and particular operations, of these various Flexures 
will be subject of consideration farther on. At present I shall only 
suppose the external sort, as in some rude way resembling the im¬ 
pressions made by the ends of a Man's fingers upon an inflated flex- 
ble Ball; whilst it is probable that internal Flexures differ widely 
in figure from external ones : the internal species consisting, perhaps, 
of obtuse enlargements of the Mind. 

Agreeably to this, if we suppose the Spherule Mind oppressed to 
extremity by Motions with one single Flexure of sensible Pain: all 






CHAP. IX. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


93 


other or lesser Flexures will have disappeared; and the Mind will 
present the figure of a Spherule , with a large concave Flexure or hoi- 
lozv , on one side of its exterior Surface. 

But, if the Mind be supposed equally strained by Fear , or other 
mere intellectual Passion, it will not display any external acute or 
particular Flexure , because the pressure that has expelled all lesser 
Flexures, arises nozv within the Mind, and seems to operate not with 
any acute deformity, but with some sort of general distension. 

SECTION II. PHYSICAL TENSION OF MIND. 

It appears from a view of all circumstances, that the Mind dis- 
tends , less or more, or grows turgid under every possible unpleasant 
Interest , which distension seems to be the mode of regulating all Af¬ 
fections under the great Law of Interest. In this we are to observe 
that the distensive Power of mere intellectual Interest is fully as 
energetic as the Interest of Nervous impulse. 

The Mind distends internally in all directions as it suffers external 
pressure on any one or more points; and this internal distension may 
well be supposed obtuse or general , whilst the external pressures are 
acute or particular. 

This is analogous to the operation of an inflated physical Ball, un¬ 
der certain circumstances ; and there is reason to suppose that mere 
intellectual Affections, such as Fear and other Passions, are accom¬ 
panied by obtuse protrusions or general distensions of the Mind. 


94 


ESSAY ON 


ciiap. ix. 


These may not much alter the grO&s figure of the Spherule, but only 
strain it to inflexibility , by the operation of a force working within , to 
the expulsion of all Flexures produced by exterior forces of weaker 
Interests. 

SECTION III. SPECULATION. 

If the last treated process shall be thought to resemble the general 
repulsive action attributed to a particle of Matter, it ought to be uni¬ 
form in all directions, and in all cases, without variation or excep¬ 
tion. But Mind exerts within its conscious Sphere an endless variety, 
and particularity , of its peculiar energy , both in Voluntary and 
incontinent Actions. 

I have no wish to deny the apparent similitude of Operation so 
far as it really extends. In contending for the Mind's proper 
Extension, it becomes necessary that it should operate as a physical 
Thing; but it does not follow that Mind and Matter, are actuated 
internally by strictly similar energies : though they may, in virtue of 
Extension, move in similar physical modes. 

Now, every case of Volition or Desire to attend to any thing, even 
to beauty , proceeds from a certain degree of uneasiness. And, how¬ 
ever it may startle us, 1 shall have to show, {rigidly speaking ,) that 
those called pleasing Interests , are truly Uneasy Interests , except in 
the very moments of gratification. Hence, all Interests distend the 
Mind, except those of pure Pleasure; which last, on the contrary, 
relax the Mind. 


CHAP. IX. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


95 


To those who may think otherwise, besides the reasoning already 
advanced on the Motivity of the Mind, I shall offer a consideration 
in the next Chapter: and request leave to think that the appearances 
are very different , (as above noticed,) and as different as, perhaps, 
they could be, in two Things which possess , and operate by the pro¬ 
perty of extension. 

It must be confessed we have no proof, but only a strong pre¬ 
sumption, of an essential difference in the two sorts of energy. And 
if, indeed, mere difference in degree can produce such different ef¬ 
fects, still, that could not reduce Mind to the supposed inertness of 
Matter ; but must exalt Matter into Mind. 

It will remain for those who can enlarge themselves to take good 
thought of this subject, to speculate how far it is probable that 
every primary particle of Matter is endowed with some degree of 
Sensation ; or, preferably, whether, (exclusive of finite Minds,) the 
whole amount of appearances may not be the Will of the Deity to 
produce Affections in finite Minds, as has been adopted by Bishop 
Berkeley. 

This last speculation may claim attention, since Matter, itself, is 
strongly suspected, by many Philosophers of allowed discernment, 
to be as useless as it was always thought to be insensible, and the 
question will come to be of more importance, if it can be made 
appear probable, that all Minds operate by the property of Ex¬ 
tension. 

It appears possible , (without intending here to enter into such 
a speculation,) that the Hypothesis adopted by Bishop Berkeley 
may fit suitably to that of a Spherule Mind: and, that an Infinite and 


96 


ESSAY ON 


CIIAP. IX. 


finite Minds are all the Substances in existence. This, at least, is a 
sublime conception, because it would follow, that nothing has been 
created but what can feel the power, and mercy of the Creator; 
and all created Things would be susceptible of ultimate happiness. 

The ineffable goodness of God, which shines through the little 
we see of the wisdom of his arrangements, may encourage the 
hope of such a Creation. 


CIIAP. X. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


97 


CHAPTER X. 


OF THE CONSTITUTION OF MIND DIFFERENT FROM MATTER. 


The Hypothesis of the physical structure of the Mind, together 
with that of its physical mode of operation , being developed in the 
different foregoing Chapters, I devote this to represent, at one 
view , that constitution which alone is to uphold and explain every 
appearance that may be brought to bear upon it. 

First, The Mind is a flexible Spherule. 

Secondly, The physical mode of mental operation is by distension 
under all Interests consciously unpleasant; and relaxation under all 
Interests consciously pleasant. 

Thirdly, By these two modes, ( distension and relaxation ,) are all 
contending Mental Affections governed in the Mind. 

It is important here to remark, (as has been shown in Chapter VIII, 
Sect. II.) that a mere dead inflated Ball can regulate external pres - 
sitres precisely as mere contending Sensations would be regulated in 
the Mind. But, it is impossible to make the same government extend 
to embrace , also, mere Intellectual Affections, unless we suppose an 


o 






ESSAY ON 


CHAP. X. 


98 

internal Principle of distension ; which principle not only accounts for 
all known conscious effects , but strongly argues that mental distension 
differs from mere repulsion of Matter. 

It is farther important to recolleet, that such internal Principle of 
distension actually and most powerfully exists: and displays itself 
with as much strength under mere intellectual impulse as it does under 
Nervous impulses. As instances of this I may observe, that a 
sudden judgment which a Man may form, upon mere remembrance 
of circumstances, (without the smallest nervous intelligence,) shall in¬ 
stantly banish every other tenant of his Mind ; and, amongst the 
rest, vivid sensible Pain itself if it had been present. And the delicate 
Vibration of a Man's optic, or auditory Nerve, shall give a mere notice 
upon which the Mind will distend to as great extremity as though it 
had suffered the amputation of a Limb. To which I may add that 
the intellectual Pain may endure many years, whilst the nervous Pain 
may be soothed in a few hours. 

After such facts, will any one suppose the force of nervous or 
cerebral impulses to be the cause in such cases ? If so, I expect to 
show, (in examining the known operations of the Brain,) that strength 
of medullary Vibration cannot be supposed the cause of mere intel¬ 
lectual convulsion, besides showing, by the way, that another cause 
is very probable. 

It is true that mere Intellectual impulses convulse the whole me¬ 
dullary System; but such are surely consequences, not causes : and I 
think it will come to appear, abundantly, that such ought to follow 
upon the over distension of a Spherule Mind. 

I do not so much as suppose that it is mere external nervous force 


CHAP. X. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


99 


of the amputation of a limb that expels weaker affections, though 
mere external pressure on a dead inflated Ball does thus remove the 
flexures of zveaker pressures. 

On the contrary, I suppose extreme external pressure on the 
living mental Ball to expel zveaker Interests by occasioning greater 
Interest , and, consequently a proportionate degree of that same spe¬ 
cies of internal distension which operates in cases merely intellectual : 
and, that all distentions whatever are the pure mental effects of un¬ 
pleasant Interests, whether the occasion, be.internal or external. 

In a word, conscious Interests are the apparent causes , and internal 
distensions are the physical modes , which govern all contending mental 
Affections. 

Agreeably to this we see why no cerebral Vibration can be consi¬ 
dered a mental Affection. Such Vibration can be only an external 
occasion of a mental Affection. All mental Affections are internal ; 
and the distension caused by internal Interest is the sole mode of 
expelling , or overcoming, motions of zveaker Interests. If the in¬ 
ternal Interest , and distension, from an external pressure be greatest; 
in such case, only, will Sensation expel mere intellectual Interests , 
and here it should be observed that rigidly speaking all Interests 
are intellectual, though only one species is merely intellectual. 

I hope that the supposed structure and constitution of the Mind 
is made plain by what is here advanced : and, keeping these in 
view, it only remains for investigation how far all appearances can 
be accounted for upon these Hypotheses. 

Here if it should be asked whether I suppose the Mind, thus 
flexible, can consist of only one particle ? and what texture such 


100 


ESSAY ON 


C1IAP. X. 


particle ( being Immaterial ,) must require ? I answer, that it is my 
purpose to make indisputable facts rally round the Hypothesis of a 
flexible Spherule possessed of an internal Principle of distension. And, 
beyond this I conceive no more of its texture , than a Newtonian 
does of the texture of solar attraction. 

Strictly speaking, I have nothing necessarily to do with mere pos¬ 
sibilities. My humble task is to place conscious and physical facts 
side by side, and to show that the manner of the one is, to a certain 
extent, precisely the manner of the other, whilst the Principle is be¬ 
lieved different : and, all this beyond the possible capacity of Brain. 

If I shall succeed in this, I mav submit conclusions to those who 
are far more competent to judge of them. 









CHAP. XI. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


101 


CHAPTER XI. 


/ . 

OF THE CONSCIOUS DIVISION OF AFFECTIONS INTO PLEASANT AND 
PAINFUL. 


SECTION I. INTERESTS CONTINUALLY VARY. 

After the 'physical division of mental Affections into two species , 
(external and internal,) there comes to be considered a conscious 
classification of them, of a very different nature, but deeply impor¬ 
tant to Mankind ; which subjects our Affections to two sorts , usually 
called Pleasant and Painful. 

This classification embraces, equally, the Affections arising on 
both sides of the mental Surface , which seems farther to indicate the 
radical connection that subsists between all mental Affections. 

Pleasant and painful Affections are of infinite number and variety; 
arid of all degrees , from agony and delight, down to mere indifference. 
But, it is important to remember that none of these are independent 
Affections, but in all instances they are attached to absolute intelli¬ 
gences , every one of which, besides being intelligence , is either Plea¬ 
sure or Pam in some degree. 








102 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XI. 


This fact has already been noticed in Chapters IV. and VI. and 
must always be kept in view in treating upon Pleasure and Pain. 

Some Interests may appear to resemble others, but yet each 
differs from all, in some degree, without end; owing to which, and to 
there being usually several present at once in the Mind, it happens 
that the complex conscious tone of the Mind, as to Happiness or Mi¬ 
sery, (as well as its complex state of intelligence and physical defor¬ 
mity,) is continually yielding to change. 

Some sets of Pleasures and Pains, (attached to their own respective 
absolute intelligences,) may remain awhile in what may be called their 
identity; but they always do so with some alteration, addition, or 
diminution: either accompanied by some new associated Interest, 
or wanting some old one. 

This is so true, that upon measuring the parts of Interest , (if we 
had a scale sufficiently minute,) we should probably find that our 
compound tone of Happiness or Misery, like our complex state of in¬ 
telligence, or our physical deformity of Mind, Mill never be twice pre¬ 
cisely alike, during life. 

Our corporeal condition, always changing, inflicts changes, not only 
of intelligence, but at the same time, of Happiness and Misery on the 
Mind : which “ strange eventful history/' has been beautifully out¬ 
lined by an exquisite observer of life, at seven distinct periods of its 
progression. 

In this way it is that we change our relishes, as the body produces, 
increases, and at length ceases to urge, some of its wonted impulses, 
and the Mind becomes furnished with an increasing stock of intel¬ 
lectual motives. 


CHAP. xr. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


103 


The immediate steps, however, of this same “ History,” are known 
to be insensibly minute , or so gradual that Memory does not serve 
us to detect the. difference in one day's Interest from that of the day 
preceding : yet we must be assured that no Man feels, on the aggre¬ 
gate,' precisely the same to-day that he felt yesterday, unless by a 
mere accidental retrograde in the stream of life. 

No Man perceives himself daily getting old in his Interests , any 
more than he perceives the grass grow ; but the one is as certainly 
progressive as the other. 

The reader will not here think me going twice over the same ground. 
I have argued in Chapter VI. that the complex Nervous Motion, and 
consequent complex intelligence , and deformity , of the Mind, may 
never be twice alike during life : but here I argue, that the conscious 

o o 7 

tones of Happiness and Misery, (which are only apposited Affections 
purely mental,) take consequent chajiges from changes in the physical 
Motions. 

This agreement between physical and conscious changes , bears evi¬ 
dence, not only that the Mind, though admirably simple in structure, 
is adapted to infinite varieties of change ; but, that from the juxta¬ 
position, (conscious with physical,) there is strong probability, that 
Consciousness and Extension are inseparable properties of the sub¬ 
stance in which they here appear to be associated. 


104 


ESSAY ON 


CIIAP. XI. 


SECTION II. INTELLIGENCE, AND INTEREST, 

. DISTINCT CONSCIOUS FACTS. 

Pleasures and pains I suppose to be •pure though apposited mental 
Feelings : that is to say, they are apposited with intelligent Affections , 
which Affections are supposed to be accompanied by physical defor¬ 
mities, and by Tension of Mind, all existing with Motions. 

Pleasures or pains, in other words, are collateral hut distinct Af¬ 
fections of deep importance, by which w r e are made in a degree 
happy, or miserable, under most of our intelligent Affections. And, 
as such they can exist only attacked to some absolute intelligence. 

For instance, I feel the grasp of a Man’s hand, and this Sensation 
of Touch is absolute intelligence. But, together with this knowledge, 
I may be collaterally affected in any one of many different ways in 
regard of my happiness. And the like may take place from an 
internal Sensation that a Man hath invested me with something that 
I either value, or dislike. 

In either case, alike, we have two distinct though apposited con¬ 
scious Affections; the one being mere intelligence, and the other 
being our liking, or dislike, of such intelligence. And under these dou¬ 
ble Affections the Mind also takes, (though it does not feel) & corres¬ 
ponding complex physical deformity, and tension. 

From this account of apposited Affections we see the basis, and 
machinery, of Association and Memory : and how it is grafted upon 
the Pleasure or Pain that Providence has, perhaps for this purpose, 
apposited to almost every absolute intelligence 


CHAP. XI. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


105 


It is true we have innumerable Affections which we call indifferent 
because they are nearly so; and there must, indeed, be a neuter 
point between Pleasure and Pain. Yet, by far the greater number 
of those we think indifferent intelligences have really some evanes¬ 
cent Interest ; and life scarcely ever lets us hinge on the point of 
mere indifference: but, when it does it will always quickly escape 
Memory. 

SECTION III. MOTIONS CHANGE INTERESTS, AND 
EXIST WITH TENSION AND FLEXURE. 

On the Hypothesis of a Spherule Mind, and that Sensations are 
mere products of Motions in its perceptive Surface , I infer, that any 
difference in Happiness of Sensation is produced by some difference 
in the Size, and relative times, of Motions of the material particles 
which stimulate the Mind: and, this inference flows independent on 
any thing that has been advanced by others to prove the existence 
of such Motions. 

Great ingenuity has been exerted to establish a Theory of nervous 
Motions, in the seeming capacity of mental Functions : but, the pre¬ 
sent inquiry, (originating in a very different view of the subject,) 
leads only to an ultimate demand of such Motions. 

In the Theory of Dr. Hartley, the Vibration of a material medullary 
substatice is the main Hypothesis . But, in the present inquiry the 
main Hypothesis is that of the physical Structure of a distinct Mind, 
as indicated by the great Lazo of Litesest in Affections. 

Both Theories are mechanical, especially as to the occasions of 

p 


106 


ESSAY ON 


ciia?. xi. 


Sensations. But they come to this agreement by very different routes, 
and to this point I must, of necessity, have arrived, because some 
such instrumentality seems necessary to my Hypothesis : and I take 
it to be favourable that such Motions in the nerves are admitted 
upon all Hypotheses. 

Sensations being occasioned by Motions of Surface , then, during 
Sensations nearly of indifference the Motions may be equal and mo¬ 
derate, in regard of size and time. During Pleasure they may be 
unequal and moderate ; and during Pain they may be equal, or une¬ 
qual, and violent. These as mere questions; but at any rate, I suppose 
our Happiness is affected by some difference in the Motions that pro¬ 
duce intelligences : and that such difference in Motions produces also 
relative differences in the Tension of the Mind, and also in its physical 
deformity or Flexure. 

In every case of Feeling, I suppose Motion, Tension , and Flexure, 
are three co-existing co-r elated facts, which operate in the Mind. 

These three facts are physical ; and Feeling, (which co-exists with 
them, makes a fourth fact, but this last is only a conscious fact, and 
is peculiar to Minds. 

The Mind is not conscious of either its own Motion, Tension, or 
Flexure ; all which are only inferred from an agreement of facts 
with the Hypothesis advanced in this inquiry. The only conscious 
fad in the Mind is its own Feeling ; which I have already argued is, 
in almost every instance, a double Affection, being Intelligence appo- 
sited with Interest. It, nevertheless, appears that the double conscious 
facts co-exist with all the three physical. 


CHAP. XI. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


107 


SECTION IV. PECULIAR CAPABILITY OF A 
SPHERULE. 

Such is our constitution that we find our estate , as to Happiness, 
or Misery, is always the result of all present Feelings in the Mind. 

It is very rare in life that we are either completely happy, or com¬ 
pletely miserable. Our Affections are usually mixed; and then, 
we are under necessity to pronounce upon the compound, ; those that 
prevail giving name to our estate. 

If Happiness and Misery, (apposited to Knowledge,) is produced 
by physical Motions in the Mind, how admirably is such a Structure 
as a Spherule enabled to compound, as well as receive, any number 
of synchronous particular Motions. And, how certainly must its 
complex shape , and general distension be made up by all the present 
Affections , at any time, however various they may be; and though of 
opposite natures: some painful and others pleasant. 

Attending to the nature of a Spherule , (operating by flexibility of 
its surface, and by distension and relaxation of its volume,) it must 
appear that it will ever take such compound deformity , and degree 
of Tension , as is produced by the joint efforts of all present partial 
Motions : and not such shape, and Tension, as would be occasioned 
by any number of them less than, or any way different from , the 
whole peculiar group 

And, if the Mind be occupied by any one violent Motion (and its 
concomitant distension,) it alters not the result; for this one is all the 
Motion and distension then present in the Mind. 


108 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XI. 


Such would be the effects displayed by a tangible, flexible. Sphe¬ 
rule ; and the exact similitude in operation between such a Spherule 
and the Mind itself, as above argued, appears to me so striking, in 
addition to what has already been advanced, that I think it carries 
strong increasing claims to our consideration. 









a 


chap. xii. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


109 


CHAPTER XU. 


OF THE NATURE, AND PHYSICAL OPERATION, OF SENSIBLE PLEASURE 
AND PAIN. 


SECTION I. SENSIBLE PLEASURE. 

Th e view that I am now going to take of Pleasure and Pain , agree¬ 
ably as well to Feeling as to the Hypothesis , will be found, per¬ 
haps, very different from any broached opinion on this subject; 
and may be thought extravagant. I am, however, encouraged to 
submit it for consideration, because it so exactly appears to em¬ 
brace Conscious facts, with the physical Operations of a flexible 
Spherule. 

Sensible Pleasures may be considered as of two classes ; and I 
therefore divide them into absolute , and comparative. 

Absolute sensible Pleasure is a happiness produced by particular 
Motions in the surface Perception, which Motions agreeably reduce 
any Tension of Mind that had arisen from the Motions of animal 
appetite : as for delicious food, music, beauty, and the like. 

A desire for any of these arises always from “ a present uneasiness ," 







110 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XII. 


which is a degree of Pain, and this Pain is strong exactly in propor¬ 
tion to its Nervous demand ; being a Motion which occasions the 
Mind to distend, until it shall be reduced by accession of the pleas¬ 
ing Motion in question. 

Comparative sensible Pleasure is the mere state of lessened Pain, 
if this be produced by such a motion as would not, in itself, from a 
state of mere appetite produce absolute Pleasure. 

Such mere lessening of great Pain, especially if the steps be great 
and sudden , by putting us in a better state than before, produces a 
momentary Feeling of Pleasure, which is not absolute Pleasure. 
It is very fleeting; and, in fact, is partly owing to mere intellectual 
Feelings, or a comparison of the present with the past. 

The Motions of absolute and comparative Pleasure, I should take 
to be different; because, though our appetites are often satisfied 
with absolute Pleasure; yet they often are so without any Pleasure 
at all: as when our Uneasiness subsides insensibly ; and when we take 
nourishment barely passable, or even nearly loathsome. 

The latter case I remember to have experienced at sea, many years 
since; when, owing to some negligence during one expedition, the 
bread and water became so loaded with vermin, and the latter exha¬ 
led such a horrible odour , that it was with the utmost reluctance, and 
real Misery , that they could be used. On this occasion it would 
have been a gross misnomer to say that we had absolute Pleasure in 
relieving the necessities of Nature by eating and drinking ; for though 
the Pain of craving was certainly relieved , it was effected with Sen¬ 
sations that, in themselves, were not in fact so agreeable as a sense 
of mere indifference. 


CIIAI’. XII. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


Ill 


SECTION II. PHYSICAL POSTURES OF MIND. 

The following Propositions may serve to remind us of the supposed 
probable physical tendency to deformity of the Mind, under the 
Motions of Pleasure and Pain. 

Prop . 1 . The unconscious Mind is supposed uniformly rotund or 
Spherule , and its Surface is perfectly equal during sleep ; in which 
state it may somewhat resemble an Egg. 

Prop. 2. Desire for sensible Pleasure is occasioned by an uneasy 
Motion , and in this state the Mind is inflexed by a Nervous impulse, 
under the Motions of which it also distends in some general way. Thus 
it may in some sort resemble a Turtle's Egg , which, as the reader 
knows, always has a depression on one part of its Surface: whilst, 
also, it has the particularity of being alzvays flexible. 

Prop. 3. Absolute sensible Pleasure consists in alternate Mo¬ 
tions, during which the Mind changes from the state of Proposi¬ 
tion 2, by sudden latches toward but not to, the state of Proposi¬ 
tion 1. 

Prop. 4. Expectation of sensible Pain occasions rational Pain, 
which is Fear ; under which the Mind unaccountably distends itself 
generally ; but without any external Flexure: and it then should 
resemble an over inflated Spherule. 

Prop. 5. Present sensible Pain is occasioned by a continuous 
Motion, under which the Mind distends, as it does during Fear; 
and, indeed, during any uneasiness whatever. But here, together 
with the internal distension we have an external Flexure , (or, there 


112 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XII. 


may be several flexures ;) and the Mind in such case will resemble 
an over inflated Spherule impressed by the end of a finger, (or the 
ends of several fingers,) on its exterior Surface. 

This last proposition may account why sensible Pain is so impe¬ 
rious beyond any other sensible intelligence : for, whilst the strong¬ 
est impulses of our strongest physical Sense are pressing externally , 
the Mind violently distends itself from within. Thus there are two 
means, both of the most energetic nature, acting at once to the same 
end. And the Mind, fixed in its nervous bed, can neither escape 
the external depression , nor restrain the internal distension , until it 
be brought to the utmost possible inflexibility. Thus is sensible 
Pain by far (perhaps doubly) the most powerful of all sensible 
feelings. 


SECTION III. PHYSICAL PROCESS OF PLEASURE. 

Keeping the general nature of these propositions in view, I shall, 
to support them, beg to enter more particularly into the physical 
processes of both sensible and intellectual Pleasures and Pains. 

If we wish any absent sensible Pleasure, this wish or desire arises 
from present uneasiness; because absent good, however acknow¬ 
ledged good by all others, is only good in our view if, and so far as, 
we are uneasy in its absence. And this uneasiness in the present 
case, is nervous stimulus or Motion , pressing in some particular way 
against the surface of the Mind. 

If this wish for any sensible Pleasure be gratified with a full feast, 
we shall find the Pleasure endure just so long as the nervous uneasi - 


CHAP. XII. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


113 


ness that demanded it remains : beyond which we shall desire it no 
longer. 

When the impressing desired object begins to lessen the Pleasure 
it has afforded, it is because the uneasiness which the Nerves had 
inflicted on the Mind is now beginning to lessen. 

When the Motion from the desired object wholly ceases to be plea¬ 
sant, it is because the Motion of uneasiness has previously wholly 
ceased. 

From this, which is a conscious fact , it appears that absolute Plea¬ 
sure is necessarily produced not by a continuous Motion, but by alter¬ 
nate Motions ; whereby a Tension , and uneasiness, of Mind kept up 
by one Motion, is agreeably reduced by another. 

If this is so, the strongest desires must be raised by strongest un¬ 
easy physical Motions, and the lapsing Motions that can reduce them, 
should produce the strongest sensible Pleasures. 

Agreeably to this physical argument we certainly find, that our 
strongest, or most interesting, sensible Pleasures, which satisfy our 
strongest nervous uneasinesses , are produced by the strongest physical 
nervous variations. 

Here we must be careful to avoid confounding desire with the 
uneasiness that excites it. 

Desire has been esteemed Passion, but I must treat it as merely 
an articulation in mental processes. 

Desire, like Will, has always a definitive object consciously known 
in the Mind itself. But we may feel uneasiness sometime before we 
discover what is likely to relieve it. 

A Man is often truly uncomfortable and yet, if life depend upon 

Q 


114 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XII. 


it, he cannot tell what ails, or what specific thing would relieve him. 
Here he has uneasiness , but certainly no definitive desire. At length 
he thinks of some definitive thing that he believes would ease him, 
and instantly he desires, or wishes to have it. 

It may be said, that all this time he has Desire for ease : but this I 
do not admit; and when he has Desire, the Pain and the Desire of 
ease are still so distinct , that the one is a Passion, and the other really 
an articulation which divides Feeling from Action: or a species of 
Volition which not being able to move, stops at wishing. 

During paroxysms of Pain, I think a Man is, at some moments, so 
fully occupied by Misery , that the very Memory of ease, is for the 
moment banished; and he then can have no Desire for ease: he 
thinks of nothing except Pain. And during Pain in general, I 
think, the Mind alternates between thinking of the Pain, and think¬ 
ing of relief. 

Desire operates as an Articulation between our wants and their 
relief, as Will does between 'Perception and Action. In regard of 
Happiness , the Articulation is Desire , and in regard of physical Mo¬ 
tions to obtain Happiness, it is Will; which shall be further shewn 
presently. 

Should it appear questionable, as I confess it did at first to me, 
how an alternation of two Motions can produce absolute Pleasure, 
seeing that one of them is supposed to produce Pain. And further, 
should it appear contradictory, in this place, that I have asserted 
absolute sensible Pain to exist during an increased occupancy of 
Mind, whilst, yet, sensible Pleasure is allowed to have a relaxing 
effect. Under this doubt, I recommend attention to the conscious 


CHAP. XII. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


115 


process within ourselves, which I think will soon solve the difficulty 
agreeably to the Hypothesis. 

The experiment will prove to us that absolute sensible Pleasure is 
not a simple Affection ; and, what is more, that it is not a continuous 
Affection. 

The precise conscious fact appears, that the Mind first distends 
under an uneasy Motion raising Desire, and then relaxes under a 
pleasant Motion conveyed by the thing desired. 

But this pleasant Motion is not continuous : and, being now pre¬ 
sent , it prevents the uneasy Motion from being continuous. 

The consequence is an alternate repetition of each Motion, with 
more or less rapidity, each giving way to the other. But the relaxing 
Motions of Pleasure are either slower, or some how more reducing 
than the Motions of Uneasiness ; and thus give prevalence to the 
Sensation of Pleasure. And though it becomes impossible that the 
pleasant Motion can exist continuously , yet the repetition is so fre¬ 
quent that we heed not the intervals, though we can detect them if 
we strictly examine ourselves. It, however, requires attention in 
many cases to perceive, that sensible Pleasure is not a simple conti¬ 
nuous Affection. 

Amongst the multitude of such processes, that of drinking may 
serve as an instance of the alternation of Pleasure. 

Every gulp in a draught is an instance of Pleasure, and every in¬ 
terval a return of Uneasiness. Thus the thirsty Man, who swills a 
quart in one draught, perhaps never reflects, after it is over, that he 
has been truly uneasy twenty times during the delicious refresh¬ 
ment. 


116 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XII 


Should any one question that he really is so, I imagine they will 
grant that at the beginning he had Uneasiness; and that he had Plea¬ 
sure in the first gulp ; but if this satisfied him he would $top> or if he 
went on he would feel no Pleasure. But Uneasiness presses again, 
and he takes a second gulp : and he will repeat this, and feel 
Pleasure in the repetition, just so long as Uneasiness will step beyond 
the last gulp, and no longer. 

It becomes past dispute that absolute Pleasure is here an alterna¬ 
tion of two opposite Motions in the Mind. And I think a distinction 
becomes proper, between pure Pleasure, (or that of the moment,) 
and a state of Pleasure, which is induced by the alternation of pure 
Pleasure and its uneasiness. 

In the operation of all the Senses this alternation is easily de¬ 
tected, except, perhaps, in that of Sight: and when I get to consider 
the Senses, respectively, I think it will fully appear that if the alter¬ 
nate Motions of the Pleasures of Vision are scarcely perceptible, it 
is only because Sight is produced by the smallest species of physical 
impulses, and therefore conveyed in the most rapid succession of 
Sensations. Owing to this rapidity the alternation is so very minute 
and quick , that an uneasiness desiring beauty, and the pure Pleasure 
in beholding it, seem to be but one continuous Sensation, just as we 
see continuously , though our eyes may be shut every instant 

Here I shall offer another instance of a state of absolute Pleasure, 
which is all that appears requisite to illustrate this matter. 

When an active Man has rested long, his Body inflicts on his 
Nerves, and his Nerves upon his Mind, uneasy Motions w hich raise 
a definitive Desire for walking ; and if he walks, he will during some 


CHAP. XII. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


117 


time have independent absolute Pleasure in walking; even if his eyes 
should be bound, and external objects excluded. 

Every step here gives pure absolute pleasure (though as pleasure it 
is of the very weakest kind.) But if the first step satisfied the uneasi¬ 
ness, he would walk no more for the pleasure of walking ; and here 
his uneasiness raises Volition to a second step , which brings another 
moment of pure pleasure. And the Man will walk for pleasure just 
s© long as the uneasiness will outstep his foot, and no longer. Thus, 
the state of absolute Pleasure in walking, is an alternate repetition 
of pure Pleasure and uneasiness. 

All Men must be conscious of the uneasiness during a state of 
Pleasure; and the only thing wanting, is reflection upon the Opera¬ 
tions of our Minds, after the process is over ; which, however, Men 
are not apt to trouble themselves with in the hurry of Life. 

Here, in the Volition to step, to swallow , or to prosecute any sen¬ 
sible Pleasure, we indisputably detect, if not the identity, at least 
the very close specific connexion betwixt Desire and Will, as an arti¬ 
culation between Feeling and Action. The Man who can step, wills 
to step; but, under the very same uneasiness during a want of exer¬ 
cise, if his legs were tied he would only desire to step. Desire then, 
is but Will withheld: and the Mind, though it cannot move the 
Body, is actively disposed in both these moods. 

SECTION IV. PLEASURE SUCCEEDS PAIN. 

If the account here given of sensible Pleasure be found true to 
Consciousness, it becomes of importance in being directly opposed 


118 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XII. 


to the Theory of sensible Pleasure advanced in the doctrine of Vi¬ 
brations. 

Dr. Hartley says, “ The doctrine of Vibrations seems to require, 
that each pain should differ from the corresponding and opposite 
pleasure, not in kind, but in degree only : i. e. that Pain should be 
nothing more than Pleasure itself carried beyond a due limit.” 

If this proposition be true it must follow, that if a Man be placed 
in a state of mere indifference , he cannot possibly gradually arrive at 
a state of Pam without passing through a state of Pleasure , because 
we are told, Pain is only Pleasure carried beyond a due limit . 

Thus a Man must feel the Pleasure of hunger before he gets to feel 
the Pain of hunger. And must in the same way feel the Pleasure of 
going without any thing he desires , before he can feel the Pain of 
going without it. Some desires have been called a pleasurable state; 
but I think we must not mistake this to mean a Pleasant state, for if 
so, why do we always wish to get rid of our desires by quenching 
them as soon as possible ? 

For my own part, I never could find at what point hunger or 
thirst gave any sensible Pleasure, though I have often zvished and 
chose to be hungry. 

Now, what I always feel is, that our constitution is not possibly 
susceptible of Pleasure , until the Uneasiness it relieves has previously 
occurred. 

To feel Pleasure, it is first necessary to have an absoluteUneasiness ; 
and then, a Desire for the Pleasure that can relieve it. And if a 
pleasant Sensation suddenly assails us, unthought of, it brings an Un¬ 
easiness, and Desire for its continuance, the moment it presents itself. 


CHAP. XII. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


119 


If it does not, then, whether it be fruit, music, or beauty, we shall 
care no more for it, than for smoke. 

If each Pain only differs from its corresponding and opposite 
Pleasure, then I ask, what are the corresponding and opposite Pleasures 
to aching, knawing, shoot and burning Pains, and tortures, of a 
million of particular kinds ? I know of only one properly opposed to 
all of them , and that is mere ease ; which, I do not hold to be any ab¬ 
solute Pleasure at all, but only mere absence of Pain. Pleasure is a 
more vivid state than that of mere Indifference ; and I have argued 
why it differs from indifference as truly as it does from Pain itself. 

When a Man has had Pleasure in the first gulp of a full bowl, 
and is uneasy wanting a second gulp , I ask whether this Uneasiness 
is only the Pleasure of the said first gulp curried beyond its due limit? 
I believe no one will answer in the affirmative; and if not, I then 
ask, is the Pain of thirst only the Pleasure of thirst carried beyond 
a due limit? I scarce think that any one will contend for Pleasure 
in any stage of thirst. 

That which most approaches to Pleasure in any beginning sensible 
Pain , is mere itching. But, though I have heard much in praise of 
scratching , as a pleasant cure for this malady, I never heard of any 
one in love with itching itself , and it would seem rather prevalent 
amongst all ranks to palliate it, as an evil, on every convenient oc¬ 
casion. 

This same ever fashionable Pleasure of scratching , and its varieties , 
being a luxury within reach of the vulgar, affords frequent proof of 
its alternate process : for, in folloAving it, they scratch just so long as 
they itch , and no longer. 


120 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XJI. 


It is but due to Dr. Hartley to advert, that whilst I use the terms 
Pleasure and Pain in the extensive sense of Mr. Locke, Dr. Hartley 
confines that of Pain to vivid Pain : but then, by the same rule, he 
must confine the term Pleasure to vivid Pleasure. And according 
to him, every particular vivid Pain must be a particular vivid Plea - 
sure carried beyond a due limit. Now I ask any Man what are the 
vivid Pleasures opposed to all the Pains registered in the chronicles 
of sensible Misery ? 

SECTION V. UNEASINESS THE ORDINARY STATE. 

The matter in the present Section might, perhaps, be more properly 
referred to Section IV. of the next Chapter, after having shewn that 
sensual and intellectual Pleasures are physically produced by similar 
processes ; but it may, however, be as well to add it to the foregoing 
arguments. 

The Hypothesis which makes Pain to be, “ nothing more than 
Pleasure itself carried beyond a due limit,” supposes that Pleasure 
is the ordained and ordinary state of Man; and that Pains are only 
accidents, or exceptions to the general rule of Pleasure. 

Now the very opposite of this is, notoriously, the ordinary state of 
Man. His condition is to be ever moving in search of something , 
which something he must desire: and all Desires point to objects 
which are to relieve present Uneasinesses. 

Even when Uneasiness assumes so mild a tone as that of mere 
curiosity , still it is Uneasiness , and spurs us on till gratified. Each 
day, and every hour, and minute, furnishes a succession of these 


CHAP. XII. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


121 


Uneasinesses, some great, and some little: and the Court, the Thea¬ 
tre, and the Brothel, are filled by the very same general cause that 
fills the Church, and the Cell of the Devotee. All the votaries carry 
with them some Uneasiness, which they desire to have’relieved. 

Surely then, the ordinary state of Man is not that of Pleasure, 
now and then accidentally overcarried into Pain. On the contrary, 
it is a continual variety of Uneasiness; wisely, no doubt, designed to 
keep him on the move after knowledge. 

Man ever flies from the uneasy state to any other that he thinks Mali 
be more easy. Thus is Pleasure a bait, which he follows and only 
occassionly reaches. The object, indeed, is often attained without 
tasting the expected Pleasure, and even a state of Pleasure proves 
to be, at best, an alternation of Uneasiness and pure Pleasure, until 
langour closes the enjoyment. 

Thus the moments of pure Pleasure are comparatively few, just 
enough to tempt us into continual Action, though we are often 
cheated of our expected reward. And thus it happens that the 
intellectual Pleasures of Anticipation are the longest, most certain, 
and perhaps the most numerous of any. 

These arguments for the ordinary uneasy state of Man, will, I 
imagine, bear the strictest investigation. It is indeed common to 
hear people say they are pleased or content; and such language is 
allowable in social converse: but, it is past dispute, that a Man con¬ 
tent in a philosophical or strict sense, will never stir a foot, nor turn 
his head, for any thing in Nature. 

Complete Pleasure infallibly arrests the Mind, and thereby the 
I3ody, preventing all Action. The term Content is received in ordi- 

n 


ESSAY ON 


ciiap. xii. 


m 

nary, to signify a mean forbearance, or a tolerable state, but its pro¬ 
per import is that of perfect Satisfaction or Happiness ; and I may 
safely aver, that if a Man be content during a thousand years, he 
will never once voluntarily move a muscle of his Body to seek for any 
thing. 

Contrary to such quiescence, all Men, during vigilance, are ever 
upon the seek for something. Which evinces that Uneasiness is the 
ordinary condition of Man , and this fact overthrows the Hypothesis 
that Pain is nothing more than Pleasure itself carried beyond a due 
limit. 

This' state of Humanity, above argued, is surely that state which 
we ought to find it, upon the almost universally received belief, that 
avc are placed on Earth, as in a state of discipline and probation for 
another, wherein permanent Pleasure may be hoped as an ordinary 
state, in which we shall wish no change. 

SECTION VI. PLEASURE CHANGED TO PAIN. 

If the nervous Motion, and consequent mental Motion that 
conveys Pleasure, be continued after the Motion of its uneasiness 
has wholly ceased, they Avill then convey a Sensation Avith nominal 
indifference : and, if they be yet longer continued, or if they be too 
strong , they will inflict a Sensation Avith Pain, upon which the Mind 
that has been relaxed, will now again begin to distend Avith Unea¬ 
siness. 

Suppose all this had been uneasiness producing a desire to cat 
Turtle , and it had been gratified until the Man can eat no more 


CHAP. XII. 


HUMAN CONSCIO USINGS. 


12.3 


with Pleasure. If now, to please his host, or patron, he be induced 
to eat on ; he will still be very sensible that he eats Turtle , though 
his nerves convey neither Pleasure, nor Pain : but if, when cloyed, 
(not filled,) he should be forced, at point of sword, to eat beyond en¬ 
durance ; he will not be less, but much more , sensible that he eats 
Turtle ; and, the same intelligence of Sense which first passed from 
Pleasure to indifference; now, again, passes from indifference to 
Pain: which last state will augment desire for ease, until the removal 
of the now detested Turtle suffers the poor Man's Mind to relax. 
k In the above case we must not confound the absolute Pleasure of 
taste , in eating Turtle, with the mere comparative Pleasure in reliev¬ 
ing hunger. As in the former case of drinking a delicious beverage 
we are not to confound the absolute Pleasure of taste with the com¬ 
parative Pleasure of relieving thirst. 


SECTION VII. PAIN CHANGED TO PLEASURE. 

It is above argued how sensible Pleasures may change into Pains. 
Whilst, on the other hand, it is known that some impulses which at 
first produce Pain of any sense, may come to convey Pleasure. 

The causes of this last sort of change I suppose to be of two 
kinds : the one partly mental , the other mei'ely corporeal , but the 
changes so produced are often, I think, appreciated beyond their 
intrinsic value. 

First, of the intellectual cause. A slight unpleasant sensation that 
has been a frequent harbinger of Pleasure , or any how deeply asso¬ 
ciated with Pleasure, will never be felt or remembered without 


124 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XII. 


calling up the old pleasant associate, and thus it forms part of a com¬ 
pound Interest in the Mind in which Pleasure so far prevails, that 
no sense of Pain is noticed. 

In this way we come to like a plain countenance which continu¬ 
ally beams benevolence, and belongs to an amiable Mind whose Acts 
are honourable and lovely , but this liking will never amount to a sense 
of beauty , or even of comeliness. We may be deeply enamoured of 
a person with a very plain countenance, but can never think them 
handsome. And the pleasing effect, so far as it does go, is in part 
the effect of an altered Action of visual Nerve, ameliorated by habi¬ 
tual repetition. 

The mere corporeal cause of changing Pain into Pleasure is a 
change of nervous Action induced by repetition and other accidental 
means. 

It would be erroneous to reason that nervous Motions by mere re¬ 
petition change the Consciousness they convey, from Pain to become 
Pleasure, when it may be presumed, that from repetition the Motions 
themselves change ; so that it is not the same nervous Motion that 
once gave Pain, that now gives Pleasure. It is only the same Nerve, 
under a similar external impulse, stimulating the Mind in a differ¬ 
ent way. 

A Man upon the rack comes to feel indolence, and must be sup¬ 
plied by a fresh quantity of nervous influence before he can be made 
to suffer the same extent of torture over again. 

A mouthful of honey, or dates, is delicious; but we soon find the 
continued taste insufferable; and we, at the same time, discover that 
the Action on the Sense of Touch is vastly increased, insomuch that our 


CHAP. XII. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


125 


very teeth become painfully alive to the touch of these substances 
and the gustatory Nerves must feel in proportion. Here, then. 
Pleasure and Pain, from the same gustatory Nerves, are carried on 
by very opposite Motions. 

A Man in the habit of handling hot things, can hold a piece of 
metal that would burn the hand of a Man not so habituated. 

No one can suppose that the one Man’s Nerves here vibrate with 
equal force to those of the other. It is, therefore, not the same 
Nervous Affection that once gave Fain, and is now felt with indif¬ 
ference, though the Mind is the same, and equally susceptible, 
throughout. 

Nervous Action is affected by so many accidental causes, and so 
tends to alter under regular repetition of external impulse, that we 
can easily conceive that the same Nerves, under the continual repe¬ 
tition of the same external shock, should convey different effects as 
to Happiness of the Spherule Mind. 

Beyond this it is proper to remark, that the greater number of 
these nominal Pleasures, which are the mere creatures of habit, are, 
in fact, not absolute Pleasures, but merely comparative , or, in other 
words, merely give indolence. 

A Man who has used snuff, and written at a desk, for forty years , 
often finds no Pleasure in the one, nor Pain in the other. He may 
use snuff, and his pen, without having any Consciousness of In¬ 
terest : yet, deprive him of either of these subjects, at the accus¬ 
tomed times, and Uneasiness will take place. 

Thus there are many things, which, at length, we cannot do with¬ 
out, that yet are as much of the nature of Pain as of Pleasure. 


126 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XII. 


It is said that certain fish Women, who are in the habit of travel¬ 
ling with loaded creels, have recourse, on their return, to ballast their 
creels with a half lading of sand, which drives away the Feeling of 
travelling light, and enables them to walk steadily. Now this I sup¬ 
pose they do to remove some awkwardness of Feeling ; and yet, no 
one will venture to call the change absolute Pleasure. 

I conclude it would be erroneous to suppose, that the same ner¬ 
vous Action which at first conveys mere sensible Pain or Pleasure, 
will ever convey truly the contrary by means of any accomodation of 
Consciousness , and hold that all such changes are changes of nervous 
Action , so long as Association does not interfere. 

SECTION VIII. NATURE OF PAIN. 

It may be gathered from what has been advanced, that sensible 
Pain is a simple Affection occasioned by a continuous Motion of one 
sort, by which the Mind is externally deformed, and at the same 
time rendered extreme^ tense ; and this Tension occasions expulsion 
of all weaker Affections, especially if the Tension under Pain be 
very great. 

Mr. Locke in admitting, in some places, the diversity of Uneasi¬ 
ness and Desire, says, “ the Desire is equal to the Painand in 
this I agree, insomuch, that the Desire arising from any Uneasiness, 
seems always to excite the active distension of the Mind, whether it 
extends to bodily Action, or stops short of it. 

The remarks concerning Motions relate to the superficial Motion of 
the Mind; but the argument holds equally good of its internal Af- 


CIIAP. XII. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


127 


fections of whatever kind, (physically considered,) because, whilst a 
strong Motion or Motions are going on internally , and these Mo¬ 
tions are defended by a tense harrier of mental Surface , it will then 
require, also, a strong external partial impulse to effect any consider - 
able internal change. It must follow, that when the Mind is tensely 
occupied by much Interest , or many Interests, any accession of 
moderate impulse will not be felt at all, or make any conscious 
change. 

It will follow from this concomitance of Tension with Motion of all 
interesting intelligences , that an impulse which can occasion only a 
slight change of Happiness when the Mind is tense , may yet be a 
stronger physical impulse than one which produces a great alteration 
and deep Feeling when the Mind is lax. 

Hence, while we are at ease the scratch of a pin will give us a 
considerable shock; that is, a great change; but in fight, or in hunt¬ 
ing, a severe wound may feel, at the moment, as only a mere scratch , 
and will scarcely alter the existing Interest of Mind. 


128 


ESSAY ON 


CIIAP. XIII. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


OF THE NATURE OF WILL, AND ITS SPECIES. 




Although the nature and office of Will has of necessity been 
shewn only in detached pieces, amongst other considerations, and 
its connection with Desire, in that way illustrated ; yet Will and its 
species, stand so distinct in the Mind from all other Affections, that 
I have thought it deserving a Chapter to itself, by way of distinction, 
though very little more remains to be said of it. 

Will, and Desire or Wish, constitute what, by a gross f igure, I 
have called a Hinge, or Articulation, between Suffering and Action . 

When the Hinge moves we have Will, and when it does not move 
it is only Desire or Wish. At which rate Desire belongs not to 
the list of Passions, though all the Uneasinesses that produce Desires 
are, in fact, Passions, physically and consciously considered, even to 
the lowest suffering of Consciousness. 

In a word, Will and its species form a middle estate of the Mind ; 
besides which there is no other state, except Feeling and Action. 






CHAP. XIV. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


129 


CHAPTER XIV. 


OF HOPE AND FEAR,.AND OF THE NATURE AND OPERATION OF; 
INTELLECTUAL PLEASURE AND PAIN. 


SECTION I. HOPE. 

Havi ng endeavoured, by the aid of Consciousness and the Hypo¬ 
thesis of a Spherule , to trace the processes of sensible Pleasure and 
Pain, I am now brought to consider that other species of Pleasures 
and Pains which may be called intellectual; and in particular those 
Affections termed Hope and Fear. 

The term Hope signifies our conscious Affection under expectation 
of good , or of what we wish : in which state we have a compound 
Feeling which is made up of Pain and Pleasure , both arising within 
the Mind. 

The Pain here cannot be denied, because nothing is good to us, 
however good in itself, unless we wish for it, which Wish or Desire 
follows a present Uneasiness. But the judgment of its approaching 
accession is a pleasing Affection that balances the Uneasiness y and 
preserves a state of Mind occupied, but moderate. 






130 


ESSAY ON 


chap, xi v. 


Hope, then, is a lively cheerful state under which the Mind is 
poised by a medium occupancy. 

It evidently appears to be made up of the alternate Motion of 
uneasiness , and of the judgment that we shall reach definitive ease ; 
and is, so far, like the alternate process of sensible Pleasure itself. But, 
the alternate Motions that go to constitute Hope may be very dif¬ 
ferent from those of sensible Pleasures, and they elude our search, 
arising in the interior of the Mind. 

SECTION II. DESPAIR AND HOPE. 

It appears true that without the prospect of possible gratification 
the Mind never moves with any desire for good. And, if it has once 
so moved, it will subside very soon, or perhaps instantly , after con - 
viction that the thing desired has become impossible. 

Such reduction of the Mind is the state of despair in regard of 
the thing previously desired , and in whatever pursuit this takes 
place, the Mind no longer looking in that direction, turns its attention 
to some other object. 

Here again we discover the specific identity of Desire with Will. 
It is very well known a Man never Wills what he knows to be im¬ 
possible , and it seems equally in his constitution never to Desire 
what he knows to be impossible. 

Agreeably to this it is said that most Malefactors are tranquil, 
and sleep much, after condemnation ; and such of them as cannot 
approach their fate calmly, are those of imbecile Minds, whose rati- 


CIIAP. XIV. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


131 


onal faculties cannot hold continually in mew a conviction that their 
fate is inevitable. 

Amongst the liveliest cases of Hope, I may instance a Man strug¬ 
gling to make provision for the wellfare of a family he tenderly 
loves; and having every rational prospect that by persevering he 
shall succeed. 

In such case his Mind will be alert: and all his energy awake: 
his capability for every sort of beneficent moderate Action at the 
greatest height, because his Mind is finely poised under the moderate 
occupancy, and alternate Motions, that go to constitute the state of 
Hope. 

If instead of the mixed Affection of Hope that he shall succeed, 
the Man labours under the simple Affection of Fear that he shall 
fail; this Fear will doubtless increase the Tension of his Mind : but, 
this increased distension, when carried to extent, will render him 
less capable of minute and correct thought and Action , consequently 
less able to provide for his family, as every Man is found to be whose 
Mind is oppressed by Fear , or over anxiety. 

This account of Hope (during which the Tension of the Mind 
alternates , between uneasiness to attain our end, and the relaxing 
anticipation of that end), is so correctly applicable to the Hypothesis 
of a Spherule operating physically, that it might be thought I had 
nothing else in view from the description. But, I appeal to the 
bosom of every Man, whether a state of Hope is not, strictly, a state 
of alternating uneasiness and Hope , however long the time may be, 
until we reach the consummation of our [wishes. All wishes and 
Desires are already shewn to arise from uneasiness. It is beyond 


132 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XIV. 


dispute that every case of Hope, is Hope in relation to some Uneasi¬ 
ness which it is to relieve; and if the Uneasiness were to cease , the 
Hope would cease also. 

Thus, during Hope, Uneasiness alternates with the Pleasure of an¬ 
ticipation , in the very similar way, that, during a state of sensible 
Pleasure, Uneasiness alternates with pure Pleasure ; and thus a state 
of either sensible or intellectual Pleasure , is equally a state wherein 
the Mind is playfully bandied from a distension to relaxation, in 
quicker or slower repetitions, according to the particular nature of the 
Pleasure. 


SECTION III. FEAR. 

The term Pear signifies the Affection we feel under expectation of 
evil , and it is the most powerful of intellectual Passions. 

Fear appears to be a continuous Affection occasioned by dread of 
the expected evil, and it produces a Desire for safety or ease. So 
far it follows the nature of sensible Pain ; which is a continuous 
Affection of anguish raising a Desire for ease. 

When the Mindjwdges the approach of any event, however evil in 
itself, generally considered, if the Man expects no evil t then all is 
zvell. 

When alarm is given that a ship sinks, Fear agitates the whole 
crew ; and their extreme anguish is manifest: but, if one of the 
number is content to die, what follows ? He is free from Pain, merely 
because he deems the change no evil; and here his Reason is 
bent to some other wish; either to reach the joys of Heaven, or to 


CHAP. XIV. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


133 


avoid the evils of this life. He has the same expectation of death 
that tortures his comrades, but, under it he is tranquil; whilst they 
are agonized by the simple Affections of the Fear of death, and the 
Desire for life. 

If the evil had been sensible Pain, the distension, though not the 
shape, of the Mind would have been perfectly similar, being the re¬ 
sult of a Motion which produces Pain and a Desire for ease. 

It is perfectly evident, here, that though Fear is Passion, and De¬ 
sire prompts to Action , their effects are not of opposite tendencies , as 
is the case during sensible Pleasure , and during Hope; because it is 
evident that we do not feel any moment of Pleasure, (or tendency to 
mental relaxation,) during either sensible Pain , or Fear ; though we 
certainly feel Pain (Uneasiness) every moment during any state of 
Pleasure , so long as the Pleasure continues. 

Hence sensible Pain, and Intellectual Pain, are consciously and 
physically similar Affections, each being followed by a Desire , 
which, by its active tendency distends the Mind, over and above the 
Tension caused by sensible Pain or Fear. And, by the united efforts 
either of Pain and its Desire for ease, or fear and its desire for safety, 
the Mind becomes distended to the utmost degree of inflexibility. 
Whilst, on the contrary, the accession of pure Pleasure removing its 
previous requisite uneasiness , produces the very opposite result by re¬ 
laxing the Mind to complete indolence. 


134 


ESSAY ON 


CHA.P. XIV. 


SECTION IV. PLEASURE AND PAIN DIFFER IN 
KIND, NOT DEGREE. 

I take a fresh Section to mark, emphatically, that the Motions 
•which constitute a state of Pleasure , being thus shown to be consci¬ 
ously and physically different (and, even opposite ) to the Motions of 
any sort of Pain ; it must follow, that any Theory which makes Pain 
to be produced by a mere encrease of the Motions which produce 
Pleasure , is not the result of a just view of consciousness, and 
can never give conception to the true structure of the Mind. Far¬ 
ther, by supposing Pleasure to be the ordinary state of Man, such 
Hypothesis is as contrary to religious belief of a future state, as it is 
to the known conscious operations of Pleasure and Pain. 

The conscious facts in question here are not matter of learning; 
but of plain common sense, or feeling. If any Man finds, that all 
his particular Pains, are only so many particular Pleasures carried be¬ 
yond a due limit, he must condemn my statement; and then, he 
must look for Pleasure in every possible uneasiness that he can detect 
in its first stages. 

•But, if on the other hand, he find Pain come first ; such as raise 
desires for wine, music, fruit, power, society, &c. and next finds, 
that an opposite sort of Affection agreeably reduces any of these; 
and, if he does not ever search for any Pleasure without first feeling 
the uneasiness that it answers to; then he will perhaps admit my 
position. 


CIIAP. XIV. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


135 


SECTION V. REMARKS AND INFERENCES. 

There appears a very remarkable difference between the nature of 
sensible Pains and that of intellectual Pains, though both species 
are produced by continuous Motions, which is this, 

Sensible Pains are infinitely various, and each Pain is particular. 

Intellectual Pains are very few, and each is of a general nature. 

The same sort of respective difference exists between sensible 
Pleasures and intellectual Pleasures. 

Sensible Pleasures are infinitely various, and each is particular. 

Intellectual Pleasures are very few, and each of a general nature. 

Here seems indicated a distinction between the nature of sensible 
Affections and that of intellectual Affections, upon the whole ; and 
each species appears to savour of its assigned origin. 

The endless variety, and individual particularity, of sensible Pains 
and Pleasures, argue the diversity of those material particles which oc¬ 
casion them by their various motions against the surface of the Mind. 

The paucity, and generality, of intellectual Pains and Pleasures, 
argue them to be a few general dispositions of owe particle or Reality, 
wherein such few internal general Motions originate, exist, and die. 

Pleasures and Pains of Sensation may vary into millions of par¬ 
ticular Feelings, each as different from the other as nine is different 
from ten, to infinity: but Pleasures and Pains merely intellectual, 
are so very fezv and general, that we have well-known names for all 
of them, and these are soon enumerated. Any of which may affect 
us in various degrees, but always in the same mode. 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XIV. 


136 

Hope and Fear, Joy and Sorrow, Sympathy, Love, Hatred, 
Anger, and some others, amounting to only a few general Feelings , 
form all the varieties of intellectual Pleasures and Pains. 

Fear is the same Passion whatever be the evil we dread, and its 
varieties are only in degree. 

But two sensiblo Pains of the same degree , insomuch that we 
could not chuse between them, may yet differ so much in particu¬ 
larity of Misery as to have not the least likeness: and they com¬ 
monly do so. 

Thus, the Pains of heat and rheumatism ; of cold, and from 
a Corn y if they attack us with equal degrees of Misery , are altoge¬ 
ther different particular Feelings; but if we feared either of these, 
in the same degree , this Fear is the same sort of Feeling in one case, 
as in the other. 

Hence it appears, that the general Affection of Fear, arising in 
the Mind, answers to guard us against millions of particular Affec¬ 
tions that arise in external things. And all the other general Affec¬ 
tions, usually called Passions, answer, each of them, to endless mil¬ 
lions of particidar impulses that arise in such external things. 

It appears to me here, (independent on other considerations,) that 
the infinite number of particular sensible impulses seem to converge 
toward a central region , whilst the very few intellectual Passions give 
desires to re-act from a centre , upon a diversity of surrounding ob¬ 
jects ; which, however, I mention only by the way, as a slight cir¬ 
cumstance in corroboration of more decisive appearances. 

Should any one suppose, that the external effects of Fear differ 
from those of some other Passions, and from those also of sensible 


CHAP. XIV. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


137 


Pain, indicating a radical difference in the Tension of Mind. It is 
only necessary to observe, that mere difference in degree of the 
same Passion will produce all differences in the external effects which 
follow the Tension of the Mind. 

For instance, moderate Fear , like moderate Anger , Love , or sensi¬ 
ble Pain itself, by distending the Mind short of extremity produces 
vigorous Action, both of Mind and Body. But extreme Fear, Pain. 
Anger , Love , &c. by over-distending the Mind, induces all varieties 
of irregular bodily Motions : and Men are as apt to tremble, and be 
unmaned, under extreme Love , or Anger , as under Fear itself . 

Mr. Locke says (Book II. Chapter XX.) “ Pleasure and Pain, 
and that which causes them, good and evil, are the Hinges on which 
our Passions turn.” 

The respect due to the name of this great Man, cannot prevent 
our perceiving that such statement is not rigidly correct, and the 
error it affirms is of a serious, because of a radical nature. 

Pleasures and Pains are not hinges on which our Passions turn , 
because modes of Pleasure and Pain are, themselves, the very Pas¬ 
sions in question. 

The Pain of Fear is the Passion of Fear , and so of Anger, &c. 
Passion is merely a state of suffering, and suffering , however varied ( 
is but of two kinds, pleasant and painful . 


T 


138 



C1IAP. XV 


m\ih\ - fotfv wh 1 


• v * • 1 





CHAPTER XV. 




OF EXTRAORDINARY AND ORDINARY CASES, EXPLAINED ON THE 


HYPOTHESIS OF A SPHERULE. 




SECTION I. EXTREME MENTAL OCCUPANCY. 


The mechanical processes of Sensation in general, and of Pleasures 
and Pains, of both species, being so far considered ; we may easily 
employ an organ, (for which the hint has been given in Chapter VIII,) 
that can be made to display the manner of succession in Affections : 
and it may be entertaining, to those who think it worth while, to 
submit such an Organ to any variety of cases of real life , both ordi¬ 
nary and extraordinary. 

I shall, here, offer one of the most difficult cases that can happen, 
with intention to explain it, as a test of the Hypothesis of a Spherule 


Mind, 


Suppose a timid person roused from sleep, and instantly to per¬ 
ceive the house in flames, but his own apartment untouched. He 
might save himself, but thinks his case desperate, and becomes mo. 
tionless with terror. His limbs and speech refuse obedience; but, 







CHAP. XV. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


139 


under all this he suffers no bodily Pain. I then ask, what is it that 
he feels ? 

The answer, I think, is that his Mind is so strained by the sudden 
Fear of death , that his whole system is either paralized , or convulsed , 
by its over Action. 

Possibility of such a state cannot be denied: because, timid per¬ 
sons are frequently known, under alarm, to struggle and gasp for 
utterance, without being able to move, or to cry out: though they 
Desire , or as it were Will to cry. Ignorant persons of the strongest 
Nerves may be riveted to a spot, or may move irrationally, under 
an unaccountable Vision : and I have known brave Men act inco¬ 
herently under sudden attack or surprise. 

In the present supposed case, the Man stands a spectacle of hor¬ 
ror; the Surface of his Mind is so turgid, that not only Memory is 
banished, but Sensation cannot enter it: therefore he cannot avail 
himself of the visible and audible aids that are within his ordinary 
reach . 

This case is one of the greatest difficulty, because all intelligences 
are excluded by an impulse arising within the Mind; and unless some¬ 
thing equally internal occasions a change , the Man must stay and 
be burnt: which sort of catastrophe, however, seldom follows if 
time be given for reflection. 

At such junctures, I take it, Men are relieved by a mental pro¬ 
cess already noticed, and well known, by which Desire ceases when 
Hope has totally fled. 

The moment the Man sprang from his bed, his danger appeared 
so great, real or imagined, that Fear distended his Mind to the ex- 


140 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XT. 


elusion of Memory and Sensation : but, the conviction of his fate, 
quickly converts extreme Fear into Despair; and, Hope being fled , 
Desire instantly ceases. 

The Man, as lost , begins to abate of his fear; and the immediate 
consequence of the beginning relaxation of the surface of his Mind 
is, that Sensations find entrance. The smell of combustion; the 
sounds of vioces; and the sight of flames , again become distinct in¬ 
telligences : and perhaps some Memory, or presence of Mind, re¬ 
turns. But, the Man cannot, now, be a second time surprised; Ik?, 
therefore can exert his half regained powers. He may scramble 
through his door or his window, scarce heeding the difference; and 
if he escapes unhurt, the sudden and total relaxation of his Mind 
will produce an approach to, or perhaps a total insensibility. 

It is evident that despair is equally internal with Fear ; and these 
two can operate in the Mind, when all other Consciousness is ex¬ 
pelled. 

I have, here, solved this difficult Problem agreeably to the Hypo¬ 
thesis of a Spherule Mind: and, how far I have done so agreeably 
to Consciousness , I submit to the reader : observing, that most Men 
have had experience of cases that will enable them to judge, for 
themselves. 

To explain this process by gross mechanism, we may suppose a 
flexible Ball with rods acting externally with different forces; and 
the whole governed by means of. inflation ; but must observe, not 
to confound pressure with Flexure. 

Every nervous impulse is a pressure , but it will occasion Flexure , 
or no Flexure, that is in other words, Motion, or no Motion of 


CHAP. XV. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


141 


the Mind’s Surface, according as the Mind is farther flexible, or in¬ 
flexible. 

SECTION II. PHYSICAL INFERENCES. 

Agreeably with the Spherule Hypothesis, the condition of having 
mental Motion or Knowledge, is the condition, also, of having con¬ 
comitant partial minute deformities called Flexures , in the Surface 
of the Mind: concerning which I may here observe, that whilst a 
flexible Spherule is exquisitely adapted to govern these, in infinite 
varieties, I think there is wo other conceivable Figure , that can admit 
such processes. 

A cube, cone, cylinder, or any more irregular figure, appears un¬ 
fit to regulate the operations of Mind, because they seem to demand 
a Surface originally of perfect equality, which no figure but a Sphe¬ 
rule can exhibit. And every edge, or angle, in an irregular figure 
must be a deviation from the uniformity required. 

SECTION III VARIOUS CASES OF OCCUPANCY. 

Sensations being considered to be occasioned by proper mental 
Motions , producing Flexures, in the Surface of the Mind ; I shall 
have occasion to argue, that each of our five external Semes are ex¬ 
hibited with Flexures of different natural magnitudes. 

I shall, also, have to argue that Ideas, being relicts of Sensations, 
are produced with Motions producing Flexures in the Surface of the 
Mind. And, that the Flexures ap posited with Ideas, are smaller than 
the Flexures that are apposited with our finest Sensations. 


142 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XV. 


This being assumed, it should follow, on the Hypothesis of a Sphe¬ 
rule, that if a Man be in distress, hr Passion, he will lose his Ideas; 
that is, lose Memory or presence of Mind, before he w'iH lose the 
weakest of his five external Senses. 

For it is evident, that as the Tension of the Spherule always in¬ 
creases with increase of any Interest , the surface must become less 
flexible the more we are previously affected. 

Now, it is universally notorious, that, on any alarm , if any func¬ 
tion fails, a Man’s presence of Mind or Memory is the very first 
function that fails him: and the like happens under violent anger, or 
any other Passion, or pain. 

And it is as true, that in extreme cases even our external Senses 
fail: and the weakest always first. 

I once knew a brave Man, who, with several others, was left on 
board a captured ship, in the Indian ocean : the hostile crew of 
which ship had been removed, except a party of them who had se¬ 
creted themselves below, in the hope of retaking their vessel. With 
this purpose they assaulted the captors, at night; and their attack 
was most sudden, sanguinary, and dismal. This Man, who with 
one or two others survived ; assured me, that at the moment of sur¬ 
prise his sight failed him, though it was in a fine moonlight: but, 
quickly recovering himself, he fought vigorously, and escaped. I 
knew the Man to possess both courage and veracity, and have no 
doubt of the truth of his statement. 

This process I explain, agreeably to my subject, by supposing that 
sudden Fear had expelled his Vision and, no doubt, his presence of 
Mind or Memory. And, here, I am to observe, that the expulsion 


CIIAP. XV. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


143 


did not arise from his attending to other objects: because his eyes were 
strained toward his enemies, though they conveyed no intelligence. 
Here no foreign cerebral Vibration could overcome his sight ; because 
his eyes, and whole Mind, were bent upon his dreadful assailants. 

1 have been told of persons who lost Vision whilst a horse ran 
away with them; and of a wounded person riding some miles on 
a horse without noting any thing. It is said that a Man of cultivated 
Mind has been known, in the presence of an august assembly, to 
see a written paper as a blank ; and to be persuaded, that he had 
only a sheet of white paper in his hand. 

It would be endles to recount the variety of cases in which a strong 
Affection drives out not only Memory , but also Vision ; and, in ex¬ 
treme cases, expels almost all Sensations , at least for the moment. 

It is however well known, that such extreme distensions of Mind 
cannot, or never do, last any length of time, if the sufferer be above 
idiotey. And, however deep our agony or Passion may be for a 
moment , or a few moments ; or perhaps a few minutes , some change 
takes place very soon. This is well accounted for when we con¬ 
sider, that if Fear, or other Passion, amounts to despair, the Mind in¬ 
stantly relaxes, and lets in new Affections; and, if such Passions do 
not amount to Despair, there is always a possible admittance for any 
accidental impulse which may change the scene: whilst our Nerves 
cannot inflict Agony, in a continuous Motion, for any great length 
of time, though they may durably convey great Pain, short of 
Agony. Now, we know that every Mind is exposed to a thousand 
assaults, both from Memory, and from external Things; insomuch, 
that it never can be long without some new impulse. In short, it 


144 


C1IAP. XV. 


ESSAY ON 

seems to be the inevitable condition of Mind, during vigilance, to be 
continually changing, e itlier by great or by little steps. 

It is very well knowmthat we perform all nice bodily Actions that 
we are accustomed to, such as music, fencing, dancing , and billiards, 
with an effort so very slight, that it scarce surpasses the least degree 
of mental agitation ; whilst it must happen, on the Hypothesis of a 
Spherule, that the same surface which receives Sensations, is that 
which must re-act upon the Nerves in all motions of the Body. 

Now, Ideas are, here, supposed to be faint reproductions of the 
traces of Sensations in the Surface of Mind: and it is probable, that 
the Motions of Mind which convey musical Action, may not much 
differ in strength from the revived Motions of Sensations, which are 
Ideas. 

The probability of this will be shown farther on ; but here, sup¬ 
posing it to be so, it should follow, that any mental Affection suffi¬ 
ciently strong to derange correct Memory, should, perhaps, equally 
affect correct nice bodily Action, such as music, billiards, &e. 

Such, it is well known, is the fact ; for if we are affected by Pain, 
Choler, Fear, Shame, or other Passion, we shall neither remember 
fence, nor execute music, or any other delicate process, with any 
thing like the nicety that we can do when we are tranquil. 

If a Man be either timid, or over-hot, at play , or in combat, he 
shall not manage his weapon so expertly, though life itself should de¬ 
pend upon the stake, as if he were cool and deliberate : and in such 
a state if he has a cause to plead, he shall find his Memory serve him 
very sorrily. 

How often do we acknowledge that we were so concerned, angered. 


CIIAP. XV. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


145 


ashamed , or surprised; that we quite forgot those very things which 
it was our interest to have said or done. And find the Memory of 
them come provokingly to reproach us, the moment any of these 
Passions have left the Mind sufficiently relaxed to admit correct 
thinking. 

In a word it seems obviously to appear why correct delicate Mo¬ 
tions, such as Thinking, Memory, Imagination, and delicate bodily 
Action, must be impaired, (and perhaps nearly in equal degree,) by 
strong Affections; if we admit all Affections to be occasioned by, or 
concomitants of, motions in the Surface of a flexible Spherule : which 
Spherule must be less capable of fine Motions in proportion as the 
degree of its actual Tension renders its Surface less easily flexible. 

To conclude, I think that the mechanism of every species of Con¬ 
sciousness hitherto considered, seems accounted for with precision, by 
treating the Mind as a flexible Spherule. And the triple concomi¬ 
tance of Motion, Flexure , and Tension , explains the physical manner 
of all conscious processes. 


v 


140 


ESSAY ON 


tti Su(t x wsiv to t^d fiiU '-r' 1 k 

ted# grrifH \tm- 3*.rr'-*\ii 7 't ? * J 

CHAPTER XVI. 

- r g -Hi; ;■;•:- - : 

irtf V* u 


CHAP. XVI. 


RETROSPECT OF THE SUBJECT ADVANCED. 




In this place I beg to take a short retrospect of the Hypothesis ad¬ 
vanced ; after which, I shall proceed to consider those particular 
mental Affections called Sensations, in their respective departments. 

And here, had the object in view been no other than to afford a 
short and rude ph}'sical similitude of some general mental operation, 
and then to drop it, as both limited and inadequate; any apparent 
similitude must excite but little Interest. But, when the Hypothe¬ 
sis is no less than that of a physical structure for the Mind itself \ 
which is to explain the mechanism of all the infinite varieties of 
mental processes, I should imagine, that if we did not stumble upon 
a conception that approaches the truth, the scheme must very soon 
betray contradiction, or absurdity , in every step. 

Contrary to this, I think, hitherto, the Hypothesis of a flexible 
Spherule has answered all demands upon it, with a juxta-position 
that appears very remarkable in similitude. 

I am sensible the subject has fallen into inadequate hands, and 







CHAP. XVI. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


147 


that I have not been able to set it in the best points of view ; but in 
regard of the Hypothesis I have noyet discovered any thing that 
contradicts it. 

That a Human Mind is a flexible Spherule , is a mere Hypothesis ; 
but it rests on a Law of Mind , under which, all Affections are go¬ 
verned, precisely in a similar way that contending pressures may be 
physically governed by a gross material Spherule : and, it is probable 
that no conceivable mode of Extension can so govern such impulses, 
except something approaching to a sphere. 

That a Human Body requires an extended Mind, is a mere spe¬ 
culative conjecture ; but, over and above all speculative arguments 
in its favour, wc perceive, here, that there is one conceivable, peculiar, 
mode of Extension , which admits the performance of every mental 
process yet treated upon ; and, a most extensive variety that are here¬ 
after to be considered. 


11 





148 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XVIL. 


h iir 4 fcitu y u , Sitbin^hm' m'M* fc«*'ff4ou 

moUtKy IV fa b wv 

CHAPTER XVII. 



it •• «|T < 'l'"' 

M ro L ! i liJtf fl 


OF THE EXTERNAL SENSES IN GENERAL.’ 

_ 




STATION I. MISCELLANEOUS. 

Ha viNG in the foregoing Chapters roughly delineated some of the 
general operations of Mind, and shewn, in gross, the probable physi¬ 
cal manner of them ; I come, now, to attempt to trace those species 
of more particular processes called Sensations : and, to consider the 
very different species of intelligence which they convey. 

In the progress of this attempt, there will occur many evidences 
which, I must think, do greatly corroborate the Hypothesis of a flex¬ 
ible Spherule, not that they can apply more exactly than those that 
have been already cited : but, being in their nature more particular , 
and having been preceded by so many facts in coincidence , they 
strike with augmented force, and claim the greater considera¬ 
tion. 

Here I do not in the least imagine that I am to avoid error, or 
gross error, in the dark region through which I am now adventuring. 






CHAP. XVII. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


149 


perhaps with much more boldness than judgment; but this will be 
comparatively of little import, if the Hypothesis of a Spherule shall 
stand, whereon others may build, advantaged by more knowledge 
and discernment. 

SECTION II. ORDER OF THE SENSES. 

There are five distinct inlets by which the Body conveys intelli¬ 
gence to the Mind; and these are universally known under the fami¬ 
liar denomination of the Five Senses: which are Touch, Taste, Smell, 
Hear, and Sight. 

These five terms I shall in future use, respectively, to signify not 
the nervous Organs which convey these several species of intelligence: 
but those peculiar sorts of Motion which I suppose such Organs to 
occasion on the Surface of the Mind. 

The fi*rst thing I shall remark of the Five Senses, as Affections on 
the Surface of Mind, is, that each of them is produced by mental 
Motions. which I suppose of different degrees of physical size or 
oscillation, taking respectively different portions of time, and which 
produces a, proportionate difference in physical deformity. 

This may be supposed first from the respective physical nervous 
impulses which occasion them. 

The physical external occasions of Sensations operate by Motions 
of relative sizes, if we may judge by the relative gravity. 

Light, which occasions the impulse adapted to Vision is a much 
finer matter, than that Air which occasions Hearing ; and such Air is a 


150 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XVII. 


finer medium than that which occasions Smell, because odours do 
not travel unless they float in the atmosphere. Farther, Taste can¬ 
not be felt unless the sapid particles be solved in a gross fluid , in 
contact with its Organ ; and, lastly, Touch requires an impulse more 
. physically coarse than any yet mentioned. 

Considering the Mind as a physical as well as a conscious Reality, 
we should naturally suppose, that unassociated sensual Affections 
always correspond to the sizes of physical Motions , in proportional 
times , if the kind be the same : and that, besides the effects of differ¬ 
ence in kind, Pleasure and Pain must farther depend on Motions 
being in, or out of, their proportional times. 

Now, in the Interests , respectively, of the Five external Senses it 
actually appears to be so. 

Touch can move, deform, and strain the Mind far beyond the 
Power of any other Sense: and can wholly expel all other sensual 
Affections. It can also exist in several synchronous separate Sensa¬ 
tions ; and more especially because its province is no less than the 
whole Body. Its successive varieties are many. 

Taste, (next after Touch,) can move, deform, and strain Perception 
more than any other Sense ; and produce great Misery, and violent 
bodily Action. It can entertain but few distinct synchronous Sensa¬ 
tions, though its successive varieties are unlimited. 

Smell is very like Taste in its capacities; but is, however, cer¬ 
tainly a weaker nervous Sense. 

Hear, unassociated, has much less Power to move the Mind toward 
extremity than any of those already mentioned; yet, harsh Sounds 


CHAP. XVII. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


151 


make ns uneasy. This Sense can entertain a greater number of dis¬ 
tinct synchronous Sensations than Taste or Smell, and its sensitive 
varieties are endless. 

Sight is consciously much weaker than any other external Sense, 
and no Sensation of Vision, (unassociated,) can give more Pain than 
is received from mere ugliness of color, or deformity of figure: 
which never can move us much, I say unassociated. This sense, in 
virtue of its weakness , can entertain a great number of synchronous 
Sensations without confounding them ; and its successive varieties 
are endless. 

Agreeably with this enumeration, the triple juxta-posiiion, of con¬ 
scious Interest with Motion and Tension, throughout the operations 
of all the external Senses^ is evident. And it must show, at least, 
that consciousness and physical Extension, are very closely associ¬ 
ated, if not inherent in the same thing. 

Together with this consideration I must observe, that the capacity 
of each Sense to entertain distinct Synchronous intelligences , as well 
as to admit them in rapidity of succession , will be found, precisely, 
according with their conscious and physical weakness. Whilst we 
know, that synchronous physical Motions on the Surface of any gj-oss 
flexible Ball , will tend less to confound each other, (and will also be 
capable of more rapid changes,) exactly in portion as they are less in 
volume than others. This fact , which is unquestionable in consci¬ 
ousness, I deem of considerable importance; because the Hypothesis 
of a Spherule explains, so satisfactorily, why these things are so. 
Whilst, in favour of the existence of physical Motion in the Mind, it 
is already generally allowed, that Sensations do exist in the Mind 


152 


ESSAY ON 


CIIAP. XVII. 


somewhat longer than the contact of stimulus of the sensible 
object. 

The Sense of Touch, indeed, may entertain a greater number of 
distinct synchronous intelligences than the next weaker Sense, Taste ; 
but this only exception excites no surprise when we consider, that 
Touch embraces the whole System , including all the other four Senses 
themselves: and, for instance, the Eye may give varied Pain of Touch, 
as well as intelligence of Vision. All the four weaker Senses main¬ 
tain their relative capacities for intelligence, precisely in correspond¬ 
ence with their conscious Interest from physical impulse. 

If we taste , or smell , a compound of twenty things, we cannot dis¬ 
criminate, perhaps, more than four, or five, amongst them. But, we 
can hear a greater number of synchronous sounds with discrimination: 
and, we can tranquilly contemplate an hundred synchronous Visual 
Sensations, each conveying its own peculiar intelligence, without con¬ 
fusion . This ought to be so if Sensations are occasioned by Motions 
hr a Surface : which Motions must tend to confound each other in 
proportion as they are greater. 

Again, we can receive Sensations of Hear in succession much 
more rapidly than those of Taste, or Smell : but the succession of Vi¬ 
sual Sensations can be much more rapid than those of Hear ; which 
ought to be so if the whole are occasioned by physical Motions, of 
greater and less scope, under which the surface of the Mind has to 
rise , and fall. 


chap. xvii. HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


153 


SECTION III. HYPOTHESIS OE UNDULATION, AND 
SUCCESSION. 

After consideration I am inclined to suppose, that the physical 
Motions , (accompanied by deformities) which occasion Sensatioiis , 
may generally be distinguished into three several species , or modes. 

These three species of Motion I suppose to produce, 

1st. A Flexure or depression, in the Surface of the Mind ; and 
these Flexures have different shapes, and sizes, in the different senses: 
and, under different impulses of the same sense. 

2d. An Undulation, or Undulations, on the surfaces of such Flexures, 
so far as Flexure extends. 

3d. A change is the form of Undulations. 

These I shall attempt to guess in their order. 

A Flexure of Sense in Perception, I suppose to be a depression , to 
which I shall not attempt to assign any precise definitive shape or 
size: but it may, however, be a shallow , or in some cases a deep con¬ 
cave on the adapted part of the Mind’s exterior Surface. 

An Undulation, I suppose, is the mental product of physical tre¬ 
mulous impulse of the nervous medium: and, it may vary , infi¬ 
nitely , in kind or shape: and considerably in degree or size in an 
equal space of time. Which may be conceived from the exquisitely 
flexible nature both of the Mind ; and of the nervous medium. 

A change of Undulation, in either kind or degree , must be a Motion 
different from that of the preceding , and of the succeeding Ujidula- 

x 


154 


ESSAY ON 


CIIAP. XVII. 


t'ion; and, its apposited Flexure must, (at least partially) change its 
shape in the instant the Motion changes. Also, if the Undulation 
does not give way to another, but only ceases, this is equally a change 
of Motion, or state; just as the beginning of the Sensation was a 
change from stillness. 

Now, whilst we are contemplating the nature of Sensations, it will 
be necessary to keep these three species of Motion, and deformity, 
in view. 

Here, perhaps, it is necessary to rescue my Hypothesis from a pos¬ 
sible misconception of it. 

The conception of Pictures and Forms in the Mind, having been 
exploded by modern Philosophers, it is obvious that Mr. Locke, in 
speaking of Images, and of Ideas being struck deep, and Pi-ijits which 
wear army, speaks metaphorically. 

At the same time it will be observed, that in the Hypothesis of 
Flexure, with its changes, I speak physically, and literally. 

But it must not be taken that Flexure or Undulation is supposed 
either a Sensation, or even the occasion of a Sensation, or Idea. 

Flexure or Undulation (I repeat) is supposed only a physical 
necessary concomitant of partial Motions in a Spherule. 

Now, I do not even suppose Motion itself to be a Sensation or 
Idea; but only a physical occasion of a Sensation or Idea. 

All I advance here is, that the conscious Feelings of the Mind, 
from external impulses , are occasioned with Motions, but still such 
Feelings are other things than Motions. 

I hold with the grossest of the Ancients, that during a Sensation 
there is a physical impression occasioned by motions on the Mind: but, 


chap. xvii. HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


155 


such impression is neither a Sensation, nor any Thing like a Picture 
of the Sensation felt. 

I am now to argue, that the Motion here termed change is farther 
indicated by the Mind’s taking an Interest, and sometimes a great 
Interest, in these moments of change of Flexures , which, in themselves, 
have very little either of absolute Interest or of physical force. This 
will be found a curious fact ; and the Interest so taken, I shall here¬ 
after call the Interest of Succession. Wherein, evidently, the Pleasure 
or Pain is occasioned by kind, and not by degree, of Motion : of which 
I now offer an instance. 

If we hear the musical note A, it is occasioned by a Motion , and 
exists with Undulation in the Surface of the Mind ; but if the sound 
of A, is succeeded by the sound of JB, we then have a new Undulation, 
differing, though not much, in physical size and figure. But, besides 
these two sorts of Motion, the step from the Motion of A, to that of 
B, must have been a middle Motion, different from either of them : 
and, the Interest we take in hearing B follow A , is the Interest of 
succession in this case. Which Interest I shall shew to be very great, 
independent on the Interest of A, or B, singly taken; or taken both 
together. 

All the notes in the scale, singly taken, convey pleasing sounds; 
though certainly they are so in a very low absolute degree. But, if 
they succeed each other in certain orders and times, their successive 
Interest is a true sensual Pleasure of great degree : and that, zvholly 
independent on association , as is proved by its effect on savages, and 
even on brutes, of which we hear frequent instances. 

I agree with those who will be ready to contend for the intellec- 


156 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XVII. 


tual pleasure of melody, provided they do not exclude the sensual 
Pleasure: which both Men and beasts acknowledge. 

Here I must argue, however questionable it may at first appear, 
that the sensual Pleasure arises not from the notes themselves, but from 
the changes , or intervals. That is, owing to the affected part of the 
Mind's Surface being moved or tumbled from one posture to another , 
in some, more or less, agreeable way. And if the notes, by succeeding 
in other orders , and times , should tumble the Surface in any way 
not agreeable, we feel only Pain from every one of these notes 
which are, in themselves, admitted to be absolutely pleasant. 

It is evident that sounds, in themselves absolutely pleasant in one 
case, cannot be, in themselves , absolutely painf ul in any other: there¬ 
fore it is the interval , or mode of tumbling , which being different in 
the two cases, gives different Feelings. 

If one note be repeated an hundred times, it affords us, (as we 
might expect,) no increase of pleasure, but only a repetition of in¬ 
sipid noise: because the Motion in the Mind is absolutely pleasing in 
a very low degree , and is not altered , but only repeated. And this re¬ 
petition will not change our Feeling , until the Nerves, by over repe¬ 
tition , begin to inflict their Motions in some uneasy way : by which 
means we may, at length, get wearied even of the sweetest melody. 

This process, of musical Pleasure, will be farther considered when 1 
come to treat on the Sense of Hear ; at present I shall turn to com¬ 
pare the processes of Sensation, in general, as above argued, with 
known processes of physical Undulations. 


CIIAP.XVII. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


157 


Hr .' "I e .’iif \i 

SECTION IV. PHYSICAL ANALOGY OF 
UNDULATION. 

When it first appeared requisite to illustrate those general opera¬ 
tions of Mind, which depend more on its sphericity , than upon its ex¬ 
quisite flexibility; any flexible Ball might have answered the pur¬ 
pose : but, it must at once appear impossible to find any material 
Body, possessed of flexibility sufficiently nice , to approach that de¬ 
gree which we must attribute to Mind. When therefore the supposition 
of mental Undulation first occurred, I did not expect that any medium 
would present, to admit occular illustration of such supposed 
processes. 

Engrossed, however, by the inference of mental Undulation , it 
occurred to me to amuse myself by observing the process of aqueous 
Undulations ; which, though vastly inadequate, do bear some rude 
similitude to mental Motions. 

In the progress of this amusement I remarked as follows. 

1st. If the wind blew fresh, the water was covered with large 
waves , which may rudely answer to Flexures of Sense. 

2d. If a few drops of heavy rain fell upon the faces of the above- 
inentioned large waves ; such drops produced circular small Undula¬ 
tions : which may answer, rudely, to the mental Undulations in a 
Flexure. 

3d. The Undulations produced by these heavy drops of rain, were 
continually giving way to succeeding ones , which might be of a dif¬ 
ferent size, and perhaps a different form, as the rain altered in 


158 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XVII. 


weight , or in shape: and this affords some vague Idea of the process 
of Change. 

In these gross physical processes, the deformity of the large waves, 
and their greater changes , were well known to me ; but I had not at 
all reflected, until I learnt from observation in the present case, that 
the delicate Undulations raised by the f inest rain , will play upon the 
bosoms of large waves, as correctly as they do upon still waters. 

The attention to this gross visible fact, to which I was led by my 
Hypothesis^ afforded me encouragement in the conviction, that such 
complex physical motions as my Hypothesis demands, are actually 
those which exist in physical nature. And any Man may afford him¬ 
self conviction that it is so, if he chuses to observe the process of aque¬ 
ous Undulations , during wind, and during various degrees of rain , from 
the heaviest , down to the finest perceptible impulse. Below this, he 
may, farther, conceive the infinite possible varieties of such Motions as 
might be produced by various modes , as well as degrees , of indefinitely 
small impulses. 

SECTION V. HOW THE SENSES DIFFER IN FEELINGS. 

If Sensations are, indeed, the products of mere Motions in the Sur- 
face of Mind , it certainly is mysterious how mere variety of Mo¬ 
tion, should convey such very different intelligences as Touch, 
Taste, Smell, Sound, and Vision. 

By what precise means of agitation these several sorts of know¬ 
ledge are conveyed, is perhaps beyond our search; but we are not 
obliged to suppose such differences to arise from degree only : and 


CHAP. XVII. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


159 


may conceive some unknown provision for altering the mode or kind 
of impulse, as well as altering the degree. 

If we do suppose such provision, it does not appear repugnant to 
belief, that conscious differences should all be effected by difference 
in Motion. 

We know, already, that mighty difference of intelligence is pro¬ 
duced by mere difference in degree of stimulus. 

Thus a slight odour of a field bug is the pleasing odour of lemon 
grass; a slight taste of assafoetida is the savoury taste of garlick. 
And it is said, that “ a dung-hill hath smelt like musk, and a dead 
dog like elder-flowers.” Now, though all this is far short of the dif¬ 
ference between Taste and Sound: yet, as the difference has been 
produced by mere difference in degree of stimulus, we may conceive 
that some difference in mode also, might produce any such variety 
as we find in the Five Senses. 

The amount of all this goes to support the opinion, that it is the 
universal Sense of external Feel, divided externally by organic elabo¬ 
ration into the Five Senses, that makes us internally conscious of all 
those various intelligences by which we imbibe our knowledge of 
external things. 

If this view should be found just, it will only add one more to the 
innumerable instances in which Man is excited to adore the tran¬ 
scendent arrangements of his Creator. 


160 


ESSAY ON 


eiiAP. xviii. 


i 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

_ 


OF THE RELATIVE VIVIDNESS, PRECISION, AND DURABILITY OF IDEAS. 

4 nocrt .Vi * • 

■'■■■ " ■ ■■ ■- ■ i.■ = 

•i s »• V*A ■ M ' ' ' v . . - * • " - ^ 1 

SECTION I. INTEREST GIVES VIVID IDEAS. 

Before I proceed to speak of the Five Senses, respectively, it is 
proper to ascertain tlieir relative powers , as Senses , to leave vivid and 
durable Ideas in the Mind : especially, because I imagine that some 
error obtains on this subject. 

It is universally esteemed, that Sensations of Vision leave more 
vivid, precise , and durable Ideas, than those of any grosser Sense. 

This fact, I also admit, is very usually that which happens; and 
perhaps it goes far in support of the Hypothesis of Immaterialism ; 
because it is a direct proof that our very weakest, and least acute, 
nervous Vibrations are enabled, (by some means,) to leave the most 
vivid and durable relicts: which is the very contrary to what should 
follow if our Ideas had no source except medullary Vibrations. 

I am here brought to state, in support of my own position, that 
which ever way we look at this extensive fact, it makes equally 






chap, xviii. HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


161 


against the doctrine of Vibrations, as laid down in Dr. Hartley’s 
“ Observations on Man ” 

If the most delicate Vibratory impulses, void of the least absolute 
Interest, can leave the most vivid and durable Ideas, and if the 
grossest Sensations are far less efficient, (which is confessed by all,) 
this seems completely to reverse the doctrine of medullary Vibra¬ 
tions ; or so far renders it apparently inconsistent. 

Since the most delicate Vibrations do , by some cause, leave more 
durable Ideas than are left by strong ones, then, such cause cannot 
be the said Vibrations ; and we must look for some other. 

In full evidence of this I risk the assertion, that though the fact of 
visual superiority is so justly acknowledged by all; the cause of this 
fact is overlooked , or mistaken : and, that the superiority here con¬ 
fessed is not sensualy though it generally passes as such. 

Nothing is more untrue than that Sensations of Vision do absolutely, 
and necessarily , leave more vivid and durable Ideas than those of 
grosser Senses. 

Nothing is more true than that Sensations of Vision, when associ¬ 
ated with Interest (either sensual or intellectual,) do leave more 
vivid and durable Ideas, than Sensations of rude Vibration that are 
not associated with equal degrees of Interest. 

Farther: nothing is more frequent than that Sensations of Vision 
are deeply associated with intellectual Interests, at times when such 
Sensations have not the least intrinsic Interest of Vision. Hence the 
true cause of the supposed visual superiority, the mistaking of which 
is an error of magnitude, and must be impeached in an inquiry which 
denies all cerebral agency. 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XVIII. 


162 

The learned author of the doctrine of Vibrations most, doubtless, 

Syffioasd Jl ,c nOiOiniftI iff.tiloiivrefl * 

have been struck by his own position, that Sensations of Feeling, 

Taste, and Smell , can scarce be said to leaye Ideas, unless very indis¬ 
tinct and obscure ones. And farther, by the fact (admitted by him¬ 
self, as well as others,) that Ideas of Vision arc by far the most 
vivid and distinct. 

I scarce know any particular fact that appears more hostile to the 
Hypothesis of a Medidlary Mind. 

I do not here overlook, that it may be objected, that a gross rude 
Sensation may not be an acute one, therefore not capable of leaving 
vivid and distinct relicts. But such objection would be futile, be¬ 
cause Sensations of Vision are not only physically stnal lest ; but, be¬ 
yond all comparison, physically least acute , 

Those sights which often give rise to the most violent Passions , 
have no sensitive vibratory Interest whatever. An acute Sensation of 
Vision only prevents Vision , by deranging the Organ ; and such Sen¬ 
sation belongs to the gross Sense of Touch. 

In granting thus much against the grosser Senses, X)r. Hartley has 
however, granted more than a contrary Hypothesis demands, or than 
justice can claim ; because, taking the Senses without association, 
which we are bound to do in treating them as mere Senses. I deem 
it undeniable, that they, respectively, leave vivid and durable Ideas, 
precisely in proportion to the physical or vibratory power with which 
they affect our happiness. 

As mere Senses , every one of the grosser Senses often leave more 
vivid and durable Ideas than any of those left by mere Vision. 
Though I am, at the same time, perfectly aware, that because scarce 



: : ' H A m 

CHAP. XVIII. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


163 


any of our Sensations , in life, can be suffered unassociated , it becomes 
matter of deliberate and rigid, investigation to discover the fact that 


has so generally been overlooked. 

In estimating the Power of each external Sense to Interest the 
Mind, as well as the vividness and durability of Ideas which it leaves, 
it is very obvious, that in an inquiry like the present, we must not 
confound their Powers as Senses , by adding that incalculable aug¬ 
mentation of Power which they may derive from Association with 
other Feelings; especially Pleasures ahd Pains. 

If we beheld a shipwreck * or a person mortally lacerated , the sym¬ 
pathy it must excite at the moment , might banish several present strong 
Sensations , besides Memory ; and we might never be able to obliterate 
the Ideas which such a spectacle would leave behind it. But surely, 
no one will mistake the original Affection , by esteeming it no more 
than mere Sensation of Vision. 

If experience had not taught us that the crew must feel, and perish, 
we should view a shipwreck with no more Interest than we view a fal¬ 
ling tree; and, even a falling tree is not viewed without Asso¬ 
ciation of the Idea of destruction. 

Shocking sights affect the Mind, not by their sensible Power, 
but by Association. If it was not so, a wounded Man would not 
be longer remembered than a wounded melon. 


If Sensations were felt merely as such, without Association, then it 

would be always true, that the most vivid Ideas, would correspond to 

■ 

the most physically acute interesting Sensations. And,then, we should 

never be led into the mistake, that Sensations of Touch, Taste,andSmell, 

\ 

scarce leave Ideas. But, the fact almost always is, that our physically 


164 ESSAY ON chap, xtiii. 

weakest Sensations, (which are visual ones,) are associated with the 
strongest intellectual Affections ; .merely owing to which, they leave 
most vivid Ideas. And this notorious fact is extremely" hostile to all 
cerebral Hypotheses; 

Farther, it is actually contrary to experience that Sensations re¬ 
quire to he often repeated to leave vestiges, or to call up their asso¬ 
ciates^ because, J can advance particular facts of a single faint im¬ 
pulse, of each of my Senses, experienced during childhood, which 
have stood their ground many years without any notable accident to 
recal them. I can, at the same time, state the intellectual Affections 
by means of which they have been remembered: and, I may assert 
with confidence, that no.nervous Affection however rude, or how¬ 
ever repeated, leaves durable Ideas, except exactly in proportion to 
the degree of Pleasure or Pain that arises with it. I am led to state 
this the more emphatically because the whole stress of a vibratory 
Theory bears on this ; that two Vibrations, being associated together 
“ a sufficient number of times," beget a power of calling up each 
other. 

I should have no difficulty in collecting a thousand facts wherein 
the weakest or least acute Sensations, once felt, have ever after called 
up their associates with most vivid effect, and infallible certainty. 

An ignorant superstitious person, though of good courage, will re¬ 
tain the Idea of any questionable figure, or shadow, and all the asso¬ 
ciated circumstances, with more deep precision, and durability, than 
the Memory of twenty cuts, or bruises: and better than his creed , 
which he may have repeated an hundred times. 

A single delicate notice of either Hear, or Sight, by conveying to 


chap, xviii. HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


1 65 


a Man the knowledge that he suffers some atrocious and irreparable 
wrong, shall convulse his Mind with a more violent and durable As - 
sociation of circumstances, than could be effected by many repe¬ 
titions of vivid sensible Pain. 

SECTION II. INTEREST GIVES RETENTION. 


The immediate process of Memory is Motion of revived Feeling, 
in all its former varieties; which subject (Memory) I must here in 
part anticipate: though it will not be fully considered until I have 
done with the Senses. 

Some of the principal assisting means of Vividness, Precision , and 
Durability of Ideas, I take to be, 

1st. Intrinsic or absolute Interest of Sensation ; with either dura¬ 
tion, or repetition. 

2d. Interest by Association, as harbingers, or otherwise related to 
intrinsic Interest. 

3d. Repetition of the remembrance of deep Interest in Sensation. 

4th. Accidental Association with present Affections of little In¬ 
terest ; which last in the weakest aid of Retention. 

Here we see, it is Interest, (or Pleasure and Pam,) in various 
shapes, as well intellectual as sensual, that proves the only occasion 
of Retention. 

r , if: .. . -'v : . i • 

And, in not owe instance does it, necessarily, depend on rudeness ,or 
physical strength, of Sensation, which last is indeed a source, but 
only one of many sources, of Retention. 

These several assisting circumstances, operating so variously as 


166 


CHAP. XVIII. 


ESSAY 0& 

they must do, may in a thousand cases give precision and durability 
to retention of Ideas left by a weaker Vibration ; whilst Ideas left un- 
ahsoclatedby a stronger vibrating Sense, such as Taste, or Touch , may' 
soon become obscure, or even obliterated. But, when the inquiry 
is to ascertain the durability of sensible impressions, respectively 
and unassociated, as Sensations , we must take in only their respective 
absolute physical Powers to produce retention, which will be found 
precisely as their absolute Powers to produce Pleasure or Pain. 

One most powerful assisting circumstance mentioned, I take to be 
intrinsic absolute Interest in Sensation ; and, quite equal to this, 
interested Association with intellectual Passion. 

If the equality is for a moment questioned, look at a mother rob¬ 
bed of her child, or even a bear of her cub, and mark how she sets 
wounds , and the hunter at nought. Look at any one under a parox¬ 
ysm of enthusiastic desire , or in the agony of a wounded heart, and 
what will he care for any nervous Pain. 

Innumerable cases show that nervous Vibration has no privilege 
over intellectual Feeling. 

Now, visual Sensations are not only very interesting in themselves, 
(though physically weak,) but, they are deeply associated with all 
our strongest Passions,, because they are the most frequent precur¬ 
sors of our Pleasures and Pains, both sensual and intellectual. And, 
even when they do not impress us as harbingers of good, or evil, 
they are naturally conveyed in longer duration, and more frequent 
repetition, of their own Interests, than impressions of any other Sense. 
Thus visual Affections embrace almost all the assisting means of re¬ 
tention in a prodigious degree. 


C (1 AT. XVIII. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 




The Senses of Touch, Taste , and Smell, are far Jess frequently tlm 
harbingers of Pleasures and Pains, though they convey t\i$. strongest. 
Pleasures and Pains themselves, as mere Senses. lienee, the Ideas 
left hy these, must, generally, depend on their absolute degrees of 
Pleasure or Pain , for precision, and durability of retention. And so 
sufficient are these for this, that a vivid Pain or Pleasure, from 
either of them, is never forgotten, or rendered doubtful. 

The durability and repetition, also, of impressions, from these three 
grosser Senses, are usually much less, than in those of Vision, except¬ 
ing cases of very little Interest ; such as walking, sitting, changes of 
temperature, and the like. 

Notwithstanding the gigantic advantages here enumerated in 
favour of Sight, I think there is no doubt that a Man will come to 
forget acquaintance: and, many other visible objects noticed in 
mature age, before he will in the least forget Tastes, and Smells, of 
only moderate Interest, encountered either in his childhood, or at any 
time since. 

There is an imposing Interest in Vision, every way considered, 
that tends to give it apparent superiority; and, in a case liable to 
deceive from associated Interests, facts must be our safest guides. 
I refer every man to himself. 

In the course of voyaging to many distant regions, it has several 
times happened, that I have eaten, once or twice , of different things 
that never came in my way before, or since. Some of these have 
been pleasant, and some scarce better than insipid; but, I have no 
reason to think I have forgot, or altered the Ideas, left by these single 


CHAP. XVII l. 


168 ESSAY ON 

impulses of Taste ; though here the Memory of them certainly has 
not been preserved by repetition of the sensual Vibration. 

It is clear I must have seen, as well as tasted, these things ; and I 
am decided that I remember the tastes with more precision than I do 
the visual Sensations had with them. 

I remember having once, and only once, eaten Kangaroo in New 
Holland; and having once smelt a baker’s shop, having a peculiar 
odour , in the city of Basorah. Now both these gross Ideas remain 
with me quite as vivid as any visual Ideas of those places ; and this 
could not be by either repetition , or by strength, of vibration, but really 
from Interest in the Sensation. 

Twenty six years ago, in the Island of Jamaica, I partook, (per¬ 
haps twice,) of a certain fruit, of which I have now a very fresh 
Idea, and I could add other instances of that period 

I have had repeated proofs of having lost retention of visible ob¬ 
jects, at various distances of time; though they had once been fami¬ 
liar ; but I have not, during thirty-five years, forgot the trivial Sen¬ 
sation that the palm of my hand used to convey, when I was a boy 
trying the different effects of what boys call light tops, and heavy 
tops ; which Sensations are very different : and if I am here wrong 
any boy may contradict me, for I speak only from memory since that 
remote period. 

After such common experience, it certainly would be very difficult 5 
to persuade me that “ Feel, Taste, and Smell, can scarce be said to 
leave Ideas , unless indistinct and obscure ones." 

I precisely retained the Idea of that particular itching conveyed by : 
my fingers, when eating cockles, (twenty years between;) but I 


chap, xviii. HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


169 


cannot possibly guess within several shades, the colour of the brozm 
coat which I left off a week ago ; and, if any man thinks he can do 
better, let him take patterns and try his memory. 

I think farther argument would be superfluous; and that those, 
in general, who give evidence against the grosser Senses, may feel a 
bias, in reluctance to acknowlege the respective Interests of these 
Senses : though this might not hold true of Dr. Hartley. For my 
own part, though I have been often remarked for great comparative 
indifference in eating and drinking, I confess, as truth demands of 
me, that the Ideas left by grosser Senses, (absolutely as Senses,) are 
more vivid, and longer remembered , than those of weaker Senses: I 
say, if the latter be remembered totally without Association : which, 
I repeat, they very rarely can be. 

Whilst conscious truth has obliged me to combat Dr. Hartley's 
position against the grosser Senses, I may have so far appeared to 
argue in favour of a vibratory Theory in general: but what I ad¬ 
vance, I may do with equal justice and safety. For, after allowing 
the grosser Senses all they can physically claim, it will still remain 
undeniable, that sensitive Vibrations, and their repetitions , have no 
exclusive physical power to leave vivid, precise, and durable Ideas. 
On the contrary, it is universally allowed, that our most exquisitely 
delicate Sensations, of least absolute sensitive Power, do leave the most 
vivid and durable Ideas : which, I here argue, is not of their sensitive 
Power, but merely by being harbingers , or any how apposited , to in¬ 
tellectual pleasures or pains. 

I have not in the least argued, nor do I allow, that either strength , 

acuteness, or repetition of Vibration, is at all necessary to excite 

z 


170 ESSAY ON chap. xvm. 

either Interest or Association : but only have fairly allowed, that 
when either strength, acuteness, or repetition of Vibrations, do abso¬ 
lutely give Interest, their claims to retention is not to be denied, nor 
undervalued. 

The amount of all these arguments is, that the vividness , and pre¬ 
cision of Ideas ; and the strength of Association and retention, have a 
source wholly distinct from, though dependent , (as is the mind itself,) 
upon Nervous or Medullary Vibrations. 

The whole proceed from mental Interests. And Vibrations be¬ 
come the immediate occasion of any of these, only when , and in so 
far as, they either physically , or intellectually , excite such Interest 
which, also , we must never forget ; may be as violently excited by a 
weak nervous Vibration, as by a strong one. 

The dependence of the Mind upon the Body is not to be denied : 
but, it is worthy of remark, that during our lives we generally goon 
under continual strong, and often violent, agitations of mind, whether 
in public or in private life; all which varied and often tempestuous 
agitations are excited, and kept up, by no stronger medullary impulses 
than the delicate admonitions of Hear and Vision. It is important to 
remark, that in general, nervous Pain is not near so frequent in life, 
as intellectual Bain: and in very few instances does great nervous Pain 
appear necessarily attached to us. We may live long, during all 
which time it may not once take place. And this is so true, that a 
man might live through a turmoil of intellectual life, and at length 
die, without sustaining a single nervous pang strong enough to have 
been circumstantially called up after a month. 

Such evidences as these must vastly question all cerebral Agency ; 


CHAP. XVIII, 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


171 


and it must be allowed, that however Mind is limited by a condition , 
it may not follow that the condition must be the Agent. 

To sum up all, the proper cause of vividness , precision , and dura¬ 
bility, of Ideas is conscious Interest , (whether intrinsic , or associated,) 
of the original impression. And all mere physical impulses must leave 
relicts exactly in proportion to their mere physical Forcers to affect 
our happiness. 

SECTION III. VISUAL IDEAS NOT CORRECT. 

Justice demands that I should not stop here, but carry the ques¬ 
tion yet farther against the superior vibratory claims of Vision. 

If the relicts of visual Sensations be rigidly examined, the truth is, 
that though they embrace a large outline, 'and many intermediate 
features; and though, from the smallness of their synchronous im¬ 
pulses , they maintain their features more distinct , (such as do remain 
of them ;) yet, they are so far from being durably precise , and faithful , 
that they seldom represent a picture without an hundred considerable 
obliterations , and many minute distortions , unless the Sensation that 
produced them be very minute. And the reason is this, that we cannot 
either deeply or correctly feel, though we can lightly feel, many Sen¬ 
sations at once. 

Show any Londoner correct models of twenty London Churches ; 
and, at the same time, a model of each , which shall differ , in several 
considerable features, from the truth: and I venture to say he shall 
not tell you, in any instance, which is the correct one, except by 
mere chance. 




ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XVIII. 


If he is an Architect, he will be much more correct than any or¬ 
dinary person ; and this is obviously because he has felt an Interest 
in viewing these Structures: which an ordinary person does not feel. 
And here, Interest is the sole cause of his remembering more correctly 
than his neighbour. 

It is a piece of vulgar London wit to ask a person how many trees 
are in St. Pauls Church Yard. The question itself shows how few 
can answer it, although they may have passed the Church a 
thousand times : and when they are set right, they become astonished 
how they could have remained so long in ignorance. 

How often does it happen that we enter a well known apartment, 
or meet a well known friend, and perceive some vague Sense of visi¬ 
ble difference , but cannot possibly find out what it is : until, at length, 
we come to perceive, or perhaps must be told, that some ornament, 
or furniture, is removed, altered, or added, in the apartment. Or, 
that our friend has cut his hair, or taken a wig: or has made any of 
twenty considerable alterations in his appearance. At other times 
we have no Sense of Alteration whatever, though the like has taken 
place. 

It is, however, certain that Sight , apposited with Interest , can re¬ 
tain tolerably exact copies of Sensations, especially if not too complex , 
such as of the Human countenance, and figure. Yet* the Voice will 
convince us, when the Countenance will not; and, he is reckoned an 
excellent painter, and no ordinary genius, that can make a tolerable 
likeness from Memory. 

Nay more, it is a conspicuous proof of the inaccuracy of visual 
Ideas , that it is an effort of consummate Art , attained by many years 


chap. xvm. HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


173 


practice, to take a strict likeness of the Human Countenance, even 
when the object is present. And, amongst those cases where the 
wilful cheat of flattery has been avoided, we still find, in how very 
few instances the best painters produce a likeness up to the life; 
though practice and Interest join in the attempt. 

I imagine an ordinary person would find it very difficult , sup¬ 
posing he had some knowledge of drawing , to afford, from Me¬ 
mory , a tolerable sketch of such a familiar object as his curtain, his 
carpet , or his dressing gown , if the pattern of either be at all various, 
or irregular ; yet, he will instantly tell with precision, either if his 
snuff, or his wine, has not the same character it had yesterday, though 
both these are compounds. 

Beyond all this I may observe, that a draper , who is in the daily 
habits of such comparisons, cannot carry in Mind the shade of a co¬ 
lour a second of time, and has no certainty of tolerably matching two 
simple colours, except by placing the patterns in contact. Now, 
the same oblivion that affects precision in colour , must, doubtless, af¬ 
fect precision in the minute parts of f igure. 

Ideas of Vision give revived Motions, from Feelings conveyed by 
more or less extensive pictures; whose features: will be left, only 
those points of them, that have conveyed Interest: and always deep, 
and durable, in proportion to such Interest. And, if visual Sensa¬ 
tions may be compared to painting ; then Sensations of Smell, Taste , 
and Touch may be equally compared to engraving. But the physical 
truth seems to be, that Vision, itself, is but a. finer degree of the same 
transient engraving upon the perceptive Surface of the Mind. 

.vtiiiXfl ^d JiauieJjB ,VAv J ' 


174 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XIX. 



CHAPTER XIX. 


OF TOUCH, TASTE, AND SMELL. 


SECTION I. TOUCH. 

That useful monitor the Sense of Touch, is the most imperious and 
awful of all the external Senses; but its operations, however use¬ 
ful in themselves, do not appear so useful to the explanations here 
requisite, as do those of the fine Senses, Hear , and Vision. 

The province of Touch , being no less than the whole Body , (with 
trifling exceptions,) this Sense is therefore not so confined in syn¬ 
chronous distinctions as is the case with Taste and Smell. 

It evidently displays similar phenomena with the other Senses, 
especially the Interest of succession ; as an instance of which, I may 
notice the Pleasure we feel in pronouncing the succeeding words of 
soft flowing language, in preference to harsh successions , or even 
to insipid ones. 

Thus, we feel absolute Pleasure in pronouncing soft measured words 
as truly , (though not as lively ,) as in hearing them. And both these 







ciiap. xix. HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


375 


sensual Pleasures are different from, though concomitant with, the 
intellectual Pleasure conveyed by the subject . 

SECTION II. TASTE, AND SMELL. 

Taste and Smell are nearly related Senses; and differ not much 
from each other in grossness , or Power to move us : though they, un¬ 
questionably, maintain their assigned degrees of power and capacity. 

Taste and smell have their Interests of succession ; but as, in ordi¬ 
nary, we occupy ourselves at least some time upon one Taste or Smell , it 
requires experiments for this purpose, to ascertain that the nerves do 
not lead us into error. 

It appears to be the case with the Senses of Taste and «S;tte//,inyet 
a greater degree than that of Touch, that however useful in them¬ 
selves, they are of little use toward illustrating any matter of search 
in the present inquiry. They may therefore be passed over, and re¬ 
course be had to the fine Senses, Hear and Sight ; both of which 
possess great Interest in the view of examining the Hypothesis of a 
Spherule Mind. 


176 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XX. 


i 


{O YTio^f^o ■.trn 

CHAPTER XX. 


OF THE HEAR. 


- 1 ~ "■ ■ .. 1 t. 'n‘ ■- 

' ilMl • 

SECTION I. PROVINCE OF HEAR. 

The sense of Hear is consciously weaker than either Touch , Taste y 
or Smell. It is the strongest of the two fine Senses, but is mercifully 
constituted so as to be rarely capable of conveying much uneasiness , 
except in Association : though, in its proper office as Sense , over and 
above its extensive utility , it can impart great pleasure; which also 
may be augmented by Association. 

Extreme loud sounds (as the explosion of a magazine) convey sen¬ 
sible Pain ; but such are beyond the proper limits of Hear , and are 
pains , strictly , belonging to the universal Sense of Touch. The pro¬ 
per Pleasures and Pains of the Sense of Hear , are such only as ac¬ 
company the mode , and variety, but not the degree of Sound. 






CHAP. XX. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


177 


SECTION II. CAPACITY OF HEAR. 

The Motions , and consequent Undulations , of the Sense of Hear , are 
inferred to be smaller than those of Taste or Smell: owing to which, 
they can exist somewhat in greater number, Synchronously , without 
running into each other, and confounding the intelligences they 
convey. 

Thus, a person who can discriminate only two , three , or four Tastes, 
in a compound of ten or twenty; can, however, discriminate five , six, 
seven , or more co-existing Sounds , each conveying its own peculiar 
intelligence. 

Now such, precisely, is the difference in effect if Ave remark the 
surface of standing water , Avhen undulated by light rain ; and, then 
again, b}' very fine rain. In the first case, the little Undulations rise 
distinct , but blend before they die : but in the latter case, they rise 
and die without blending ; and are continually replaced by similar 
ones, Avhich keeps up similarity of distinct impressions. And this they 
may do in greater number , and distinctness, proportionally as the 
. Undulations are smaller , and short lived. 

The Motions , and consequent Undulations , of Hear , being smaller 
than those of grosser Senses, but larger than those of Sight; it should 
follow, that Hear can receive successive Sensations Avith more rapidity 
than can any grosser Sense: but not with rapidity equal to that of 
Sight. 

Noav the organs of Taste and Smell are so constructed, that Ave 

cannot ascertain the relative possible rapidity of their successive Sensa- 

a a 


■>78 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XX. 


tions : at least not without resorting to experiments, which indeed, I 
really have not done, as deeming it unnecessary. But, nothing is 
better ascertained than, that Sensations of Hear cannot succeed with 
near so great rapidity as those of Sight ; which shall be further con¬ 
sidered in treating upon this latter Sense. 

If all Sensations are occasioned by physical Motions , producing 
Undulations of different sizes in relative times, on the surface of the 
Mind; it is physically evident, that the rapidity with which they can 
succeed each other must naturally depend upon their sizes, that is to 
say, upon the natural times they must take to rise and fall. 

Thus, in the two grand considerations, the relative capacity for 
distinct Synchronous intelligences ; and relative capacity for rapidity 
of successive intelligences, we find the mechanism of conscious 
known facts of Sounds, apparently explained by the physical opera¬ 
tions of an Undulating surface. 

SECTION III. INTEREST OF SUCCESSION IN HEAR. 

I come now, again, to touch on that wonderful property of Hear, 
which, taken without Association , conveys Interest of a pleasing na¬ 
ture; and in which it very far surpasses the powers of the grosser 
Senses, indicating that it is not degree (but kind), of Motion that 
gives pleasure. 

If any of the three gross Senses conveys little absolute Interest in 
Sensation, it will convey but equally little Interest in the succes¬ 
sion of another Sensation of equal absolute Interest. Thus if Bread 
tastes pleasantly insipid, we shall feel no Interest of succession by 


CIIAP. XX. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


179 


changing from bread to potatoe , if pot a toe be, to us, equally in¬ 
sipid. 

But, the Sense of Hear can impart great absolute sensual Pleasure 
by a succession of Sensations, each one of which is absolutely nearly 
insipid: and all of them so in nearly an equal degree. 

If we repeat any musical note tzventy times, we have pleasant in* 
sipidity. If we vary the note in a thousand given ways, still we 
may have only mere insipidity ; and, if we vary it in other given 
ways, we may have uneasiness. But again, we can vary musical 
notes in other given ways, for ever, to produce endless varieties of ab¬ 
solute sensual Pleasure. 

It must follow that the Sounds themselves , possessing, as they all do , 
but very little pleasing Interest ; and equally little physical force, are 
not the occasions of pure Pleasure : but the Pleasure consists 
in the tumbling of surface from one Undulation to another , by which 
the mind is sensually solaced. And, whilst this is the conscious fact , 
we see why it should be so, (agreeably to the account given of sen¬ 
sible Pleasure and Pain in Chapter XI,) on the hypothesis of a 
flexible spherule Mind. 

A note in music , like the act of pronouncing of a word in poetical 
language, puts the Mind in a posture to receive Pleasure by tumbling 
to another posture ; and these may follow, and vary, without any 
limit. 

According to tliis account, sensible contacts are but the steps of 
Pleasure ; and here we step continually, from the contact of sensitive 
Uneasiness, to the contact of pure momentary sensitive Pleasure. 

However strange be the assertion, what I have here said amounts 


180 


CHAP. XX. 


ESSAY ON 

Strictly to this, that the notes give Pleasure not by their duration, 
but by the interval, or tumble, from note to note; and each note 
leaves an uneasiness wanting another: for, if the last note does not 
leave an uneasiness and desire for more, we naturally walk away, as 
we do to avoid an excruciating street musician; and listen no more 
for the sake of melodious succession. 

That theme, or fall, of mental Surface, during the interval , (even 
when not varied) is tin* occasion of pure Pleasure appears farther, 
because along continued note (taken alone) is nearly insipid; but 
several repetitions of the same note, all contained within the time of 
the long one, is absolutely pleasing, as when we hear several quavers , 
or semiquavers. Yet a prolonged repetition of these does not in¬ 
crease this Pleasure ; nut, diminishes it, by affecting the Nerve. 

I expect this part of my Hypothesis will raise animadversion ; but, 
it is as I feel ; and is here submitted with deference. 

Here then, in the operation of the fine Sense of Hear, I 
presume, that varieties of Pleasures and Pains are not produced in 
the wa}' ingeniously supposed in the Theory of Vibrations; that is, 
merely by difference in degree of Vibration; but by difference in 
Succession of Mode. 

If it were not so, then, as each note is conveyed by a different size 
or degree of Vibration , each would differ in Interest ; and a grave 
note must differ vastly (as Pleasure or Pain) from its Octave, which, 
in fact, it does not; but both have nearly equal Interests; which 1 
suppose is because the larger Vibration takes proportionally longtt 
time to oscillate, or to move the Mind. 

The difference in degree, or loudness, of Vibrations must indeed be 


CHAP. XX. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


18 L 


the occasion of some difference in Interest; but, this does not make 
bne note A, and another B. The musical Pleasure, or Pain that 
sounds can convey, is the result of their succeeding in varieties, at 
irregular intervals ; that is, the result of tumbling the adapted part 
of the Mind's surface , from one shape to another: wherein, it is the 
variety of mode, and not variety in degree, that occasions the Pleasure* 

In the above account, I have, of course, had in view no other than 
the sensitive effects of melody ; the capacity and love for which, Nature 
has stampt upon all Al W, and even upon beasts : and the Pleasures 
of which, some only are denied, through the imperfection of their 
nervous Organs. 

To those who incline to think music a Pleasure purely intellectual, 
I may observe the pleasing effect produced on many animals, on their 
first hearing a fascinating melody. And, if the pleasure of melody 
be not independant on Association, why does a sweet air please us, 
more than an insipid one that calls up the same associates ? 

If a Man dance with his mistress to a strange air, merely insipid, 
and again to another strange one, that delights his ear, either of these 
may recal the Idea of his Happiness ; but, he will still find the one air 
insipid, and the other delightful; though the associated Interest may 
improve the dull tune, one or two shades, in liking. 

But certainly, music can convey intellectual Pleasure in various 
degrees : which, when joined to the sensitive Feeling, heightens the 
whole. 

The Power of music over the Passions is confessed, universally; but, 
this Power, is simply the Power to rouse, or sooth, the Mind by 
imitation, and, to revive past associations. 



182 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XX. 


Arguing from the uncontrovertible positions of Locke, mar¬ 
tial sounds could raise no ardour for war , in one who never had 
Ideas of war : but, the various Ideas of war having been deeply as- 
sociated with what we call martial music , the sound of the one, 
revives the Memory of the other; and, this Memory revives the 
Passion for glory, and other Feelings. 

Soft music has been likened to the “ Memory of joys that are 
past.” The fact is, it often revives the Memory of joys that are past, 
and brings the sad recollection that they never can return. Hence, 
the melancholy it inspires, if these joys are not long flown, is so 
far beyond the limits of Pleasure, that we become unable to endure 
it, though the power of melody tends to alleviate. 

Musical Sounds, according as they vary, in kind, regularity, and 
time, must have a corresponding sensitive effect, of rousing or sooth¬ 
ing the Mind; and, so far, will produce the same Feelings in dif¬ 
ferent persons who have no associated Ideas in common. But, their 
power over the Passions depends on the Feelings that w r e have asso¬ 
ciated with such Sounds. The same Sounds that one nation asso¬ 
ciates with Ideas of war, another may attach to Ideas of feasting 
only; and, in this way opposite Passions may be roused in different 
persons by the same Sounds. 

What has been advanced on the Sense of Hear, is perhaps all that 
is necessary to illustrate the Hypothesis of a Spherule Mind, so that 
I need not prosecute the consideration of it any farther. 


CHAP. XX r. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


183 


CHAPTER XXI. 


OF SIGHT. 


SECTION I. PROVINCE OF SIGHT. 

The Sight is at once the weakest, most comprehensive, rapid , and 
aggregately delightful, of all the Senses. 

The All-wise dispenser of mercies hath so ordered that no proper 
Sensation of Sight, (taken unassociated,) can convey any thing 
worse than a very slight uneasiness ; whilst, on the other hand, it can 
impart exquisite Pleasure, in many cases ; and convey either safety, 
or utility , in almost all its impulses. 

Colours, (shewing figure, and Motion,) are the proper objects of 
Vision; and intense Light is beyond its province, being in the scope of 
the sense of Touch. 

Colour, and its varieties, impart Ideas of superficial figure: 
and, those displayed by the most disgusting animals, would 
convey but very little Interest if we viewed them without Associa - 






184 ESSAY ON chap. xxi. 

tion. Thus, we feel Uneasiness , though not great Uneasiness, in 
viewing an ugly person, or an ugly beast; but, the most dis¬ 
coloured, or disfigured, fossile production imparts no Uneasiness at 
all; or, in fact, no Sense of ugliness. 

SECTION II. CAPACITY OF SIGHT. 

Arguing physically, it must follow, that if Sight is the weakest 
conscious, and physical Sense, it must be conveyed by the smallest 
Motions , accompanied by the smallest Undulations ; and, it is easy, 
on this Hypothesis, to conceive, how Sight can be conveyed in a far 
greater number of synchronous intelligences, without confounding 
each other, than can be the case in Affections of the Hear , which is 
the next stronger Sense. It is equally easy to conceive, how the 
minuteness of visual Undulations enables them to rise , and fall , in 
less times than those of the Hear can do: which, enables us to receive 
visual Sensations, in far greaier successive rapidity than we can 
receive auditory ones. 

Musical notes may succeed each other with very great rapidity; 
but, there must be so much interval , however small it may be, be- 
teen every two notes, as to permit the Undulation of the one to fall, 
before an Undulation is raised by the succeeding one. 

If the rapidity of musical notes be greater than the above, they 
will not be heard in separate succession , but only in continuity , (as 
one long sound,) in a similar way that a rapid consecution of the 
seven colours produces not separate Sensations, but one continuous 
Sensation ©f white. Both which conscious facts, appear naturally 


CHAP. XXI. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


185 


accounted for by this Hypothesis of Undulations: which shews 
that during continuity of Sensation , the succeeding Undulations 
overtake and tread upon the preceding ones. 

Fortunately for the present argument, the relative capacities of 
Hear and Sight , for rapidity of successive Sensations, have been ascer¬ 
tained, nearly, by the experiment of Dr. Herschel, from which it ap¬ 
peared, that we can receive successive Sensations of Hear , at the ra¬ 
pidity of about an hundred and sixty Sensations in a second: be¬ 
yond which degree of rapidity, the successive Sounds were heard not 
separately, but in continuity. But, Sensations of Sight were received 
in separate succession, at nearly double that rate, or might, perhaps, 
be about three hundred and twenty in a second; beyond which, the 
visual Sensations became continuous. 

This experiment is very important to the Hypothesis advanced, 
and from it alone we might infer, that Undulations of Hear require 
about double the time to rise , and fall, that is required by Undula¬ 
tions of Sight; and, of course, that their natural sizes are propor¬ 
tioned to the natural times they require. 

SECTION III. PHYSICAL ANALOGY OF SIGHT. 

Before I proceed farther in the consideration of visual Sensations, 
it may tend to illustrate the subject, if we turn to contemplate the 
process of aqueous or other physical Undulations; however inadequate 
these certainly are, to afford correct similitude of mental processes. 

If we observe the surface of standing water during small rain, we 
shall perceive a surface of little circles , which rise distinctly , then 

b b 


186 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XXI. 


7 >f 

moSj S' 

blend and die ; which process may somewhat resemble the tendency 
to blend amongst many synchronous Sounds, thereby producing, less 
or more confusion in Hearing. 

Again, if we observe the water during rain of the finest possible 
degree, we shall perceive a surface covered with delicately beautiful 
minute circles, which rise, and die without blending. Their sizes, and 
impulses, not enabling them to invade, or affect, their next neigh- 
hours. These, I suppose, rudely, to resemble the manner of visual 
Undulations; and, their minuteness is the reason why they die without 
reaching farther than a mere contact with those around them. 

These aqueous Undulations certainly are but momentary, and vi¬ 
sual Undulations, (which must be vastly smaller,) are supposed of 
proportional duration : but, it appears only requisite for conti¬ 
nuity of Sensation, that these should not be replaced by different 
ones; but, that they die and are instantly replaced by others exactly 
similar. This repetition being kept up so rapidly, each similar 
succeeding surface of waves shall be strictly similar to the preceding 
set, so long as the same visible object affects the eyes: and, we shall 
have a continuous Sensation of one colour therefrom. 

This supposition is farther countenanced by the minute tremor we 
often feel in visual Sensation, amounting almost to small breaches of 
continuity: such as, whilst reading print that is too small for conve¬ 
nient Vision; in which case, we have a sensible minute Feeling of 
Undulation. 

Here it is proper to remark, that I have often observed fine rain 
fall in drops at very irregular distances, which spoils the precision of 
the experiment; but, when the thing first claimed my attention, I 


CHAP. XXI. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


187 


repeatedly observed fine drops of rain falling very near each other, 
at equal distances, forming a surface of Undulations, very regu¬ 
lar, extremely small , and beautiful. The like, doubtless, often hap¬ 
pens, though I have as often found it otherwise. 

SECTION IV. PHYSICAL PROCESS OF SIGHT. 

Arguing from the admitted physical process of Sound, and the 
Vibrations of the parts of Sounding Bodies, if there be any analogy 
between the processes of Hear and Vision, as between the nature of 
the impulses that produce them, I may suppose, that during Vision 
the Retina receives , and is agitated by, the different sorts of rays of 
Light reflected from a picture: and, that the Sense of each colour 
is impressed by a peculiar impulse, possessing shape , and gravity , 
exclusively its own. The difference in gravity , alone , would occasion 
agitations of different sizes ; which unequal agitations must form, in 
fact, a surface of Undulations over the whole expansion of the 
Optic Nerve or Retina. 

These, or perfectly corresponding Motions, will be conveyed along 
the Optic trunk , forming lines of distinct , and independent , Vibra¬ 
tions, until they reach the inner extremity of the Nerve , where they 
are discharged. And. here, we must suppose it probable, they will 
form a surface of Undulations , perfectly correspondent to the 
impressions received on the Retina. And these Undulations are 
thus inflicted upon the Spherule Mind. 

If this reasoning appears adapted to the Hypothesis of a Spherule , 

1 US Ytft JsV ?> : . 'v: .. - 


388 


CHAP. XXI. 


ESSAY ON 

I trust it is equally so to the probable agitations which we must sup¬ 
pose to exist in the Retina during Vision . 

I shall have to argue, farther on, that during Vision, the Optic Nerve 
must transmit, quite independent of each other, the millions of lines 
of Vibrations that form a picture; and, as the Nerve so performs this 
office, there can be no need of a mixture, or diffusion, of Vibrations 
over the Brain, to form a picture already formed : which mixture, if 
it did take place must be supposed to occasion only confusion , and 
not distinct Vision. 

In this way we see that a confusion of the Undulations of all the 
colours, deprives us of all Sensation of particular colour , and leaves 
the-Sense of white : and this equally so, whether the rays are nu¬ 
merously mixed by the reflecting surface of a white Body ; or, that 
the Undulations confuse in the Nerves and Mind from a rapid con¬ 
secution of the separate colours before the eye. 

Let us proceed to make use of visual Sense , agreeably to this Hy¬ 
pothesis of mental Undulations. 

The proper objects of Sight, are colours only y by means of which, we 
also perceive Motions. 

Suppose Undulations of the colour Orange to be 
of tins form 

Blue - - 


Red - - 

il jJ . iiiw *1» 












CHAP. XXI. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


189 


And, agreeably to this, suppose 
we were to view a Badge , divided 
into three distinct fields consist¬ 
ing of these three colours. Then, 

I suppose we should have, on 
the surface of the Mind , a shal¬ 
low superficial Flexure , upon the 
face of which would play, a repe¬ 
tition of little Undulations , per¬ 
fectly similar to their own kinds ; 
and, these repetitions would con¬ 
tinue so long as the eye dwelt on 
the object; somewhat in the man¬ 
ner represented here 

If this be supposed, it is easily conceivable, that there ma\^ be a 
peculiar shape , and size, (or some peculiarity,) belonging to the Undu¬ 
lation of every sensible variety of colour: and, if so, the most compli¬ 
cated scene, a City, a Province, or a Battle, is as easily displayed, 
with all its shades , and changes , as the simple figure shown above. 

I do not, at all, suppose visual Undulations to have the figures 
here assigned for illustration. It is enough that they have each its 
peculiar form, or size , or both, adapted to the nicest sensible difference 
of every colour. 

Farther, I do not for a moment imagine that this part of my 
Hypothesis is not, less or more, erroneous. It must be expected 
liable to error. It will be much if it carries probability upon the 
whole. 


i 






190 


ESSAY ON cWap. xxi. 

Iyjr rti foddu^oiq jRqed'jfKi A io r jzu. 

SECTION V. EVIDENCE OF VISUAL UNDULATIONS. 

goonboiq fiw>. k to ooiloM • **^ £ mu* * **«- atNJfcBl 

Here I shall support the Hypothesis of Visual Undulations by the 
statement of a well-known conscious fact. 

If the eyes be covered lightly, we have total absence of Vision ; but, 
if we begin to increase the pressure of the hand, gently , we shall 
then have a beginning Sensation of faint light, not in an uniform sur¬ 
face, but a surface consisting of Undulations; and, as we, gradually, 
increase the pressure , these Undulations will, also, gradually increase , 
both in size, and in brightness; until, by the time the pressure 
amounts to Pain , the luminous Undulations will equal the lustre of 
the Sun itself. 

Whoever may try this easy experiment shall find, that the Undu¬ 
lations so raised, are every moment changing their shapes , increas¬ 
ing their size ; and, also increasing their lustre, as the pressure in¬ 
creases : from which facts we may make the following suppositions, 
especially when supported by all that has gone before. 

1st. Vision is physically occasioned by small Motions with conco¬ 
mitant Undulations in the surface of the Mind, taking, naturally, 
proportional times. 

2d. Because the sizes of Undulations , together with their lustre , 
increase with increase of pressure , (even until pressure gives Pain.) 
We may suppose, that degree of Sensation answers to degree of 
either physical size, or acuteness of Motion. This is, precisely, what 
has been supposed throughout this Hypothesis: and, in this case of 
pressure by hand, the same sizes of Undulations which might give 


CHAP. XXI. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


11)1 


obtuse Sense of Touch, are, perhaps, produced in shorter times; which 
acuteness imparts the Feeling of vivid Pain , together with a Sense of 
intense Light.' Thus a quick Motion of a. moderate size produces 
Pain, whilst a quick Motion of small size gives mere sensation ; and, 
if so, a quick Motion, of a large size , should produce agony , as hap¬ 
pens during excruciating Undulations of Touch. 

The fiery Undulations produced by the pressure of the eyes, at 
any given degree of pressure, are not either circles, squares, triangles, 
or of any other definitive shape ; but, they are nevertheless Undula¬ 
tions, possessing peculiar shapes, and constituting a Surface of mottled 
light ; and, I believe it is impossible, by pressure, to produce Undu¬ 
lations small enough to appear as a Surface of uniform light : though, 
if we could do so, it would not be, at all, in contradiction with the 
Hypothesis advanced, because, it is only by such means of minute¬ 
ness, and a consequent rapid succession, that I suppose we can have 
proper vision of one coloured Surface ; whilst it is by the over stimu¬ 
lus of gross pressure by the hand, that we produce sensible Undula¬ 
tions instead of a Sense of uniform equal light. 

SECTION VI. SIGHT AND TOUCH FROM ONE 
IMPULSE. 

The conscious fact that we produce Undulations at all, is of a most 
corroborating nature in regard of the Hypothesis. And, the con¬ 
scious Pain from the degree of physical pressure, increasing precisely 
with the conscious sizes of the Undulations, and their intensity of light, 


192 


ESSAY ON 


chap, xxr. 


is & juxtaposition, conscious with physical, which may claim our par¬ 
ticular attention. 

It has been, all along, supposed, that the grossest conscious Feelings, 
of mere Sense, were produced by the grossest physical impulses, and 
accompanied by the largest Flexures, and Undulations : and, here, 
at length, in the Sense of Sight, we are enabled to detect and esta¬ 
blish the apposited fact, that it actually is so. 

It is of importance, here, to consider the fact, that when we have 
pressed the eye to a considerable degree of Pain, and produced 
large Undulations of the brightest possible Light , we may contem¬ 
plate such Undulations as belonging to the Sense of Vision; and, 
otherwise, distinctly from this, as belonging to the Sense of Touch. 
In this last character, these Undulations are to be considered 
merely as painful Undulations of the gross Sense of Touch. And, 
by this glimpse of the relative sizes of Undulations of this Sense of 
Touch, we may endeavour to guess at the grossness of its largest 
Undulations, which distort the whole Mind in moments of sensitive 
Agony: the extent of which Undulations, perhaps, we have no 
other means of guessing. 

If we contemplate the nature of an identical physical Motion , in 
its two several sensual characters, of Vision , and of Touch, (as thus de¬ 
tected in the experiment of the eye,) it manifests such an evident 
connection between Feelings of every Sense , and opens such a view of 
the apposited conscious and physical operations of the Mind, as I am 
obliged to think very interesting in this inquiry. 


CHAP. xxr. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


193 


.VC "U *•' 

SECTION VII. SIGHT MAY PLAY ON TOUCH. 

Considering the Mind as a Spherule, surrounded by the nervous 
System, I do not suppose that all the senses operate upon all parts of 
its Surface . On the contrary, from the disposition of the Nerves, 
as well as from its appearing necessary, I am to suppose, that each 
Sense has its allotted portion of Surface, with, perhaps, the exception 
of Touch, as the universal bodily Sense. 

Now, so considered, I have to remark a physical analogy which 
shows the possibility of such an arrangement. 

If we observe a Surface of water, with large Undulations raised by 
the wind ; and if, at the same time, there be very fine rain, it has 
been already remarked, we shall perceive the little delicate Undula¬ 
tions of the rain, play in undisturbed repetitions upon the whole bo¬ 
soms of the large waves, as correctly as though the water had been 
perfectly free from the impulse of wind. 

In a similar way, it may be very possible for Visual Undulations 
to occupy the very same portion of the Mind’s Surface that is also oc¬ 
cupied, synchronously, by gross Undulations of the Sense of Touch; 
as we find to be the case when we have both light and Pain from 
the one pressure upon the eye. 

If this arrangement be supposed, it appears necessary, only, that 
any two Senses whose Undulations are nearly of equal size, should 
have distinct portions of mental Surface to operate upon: else, we 
may suppose, they might mix, and produce confusion of intelligence ; 

though we know not if it would be so. 

c c 



104 


CIIAP. XXI. 


ESSAY ON 

Here, allowance must be made for the great variety of possible modi¬ 
fications which may exist, unknown, (and even unsearchable,) t© us ; 
which may enable the Senses to operate with those specific dif¬ 
ferences that we feel: and, though the account here attempted is 
imperfect, and, no doubt, will be found in many respects erroneous, 
such imperfections, I hope, are not sufficient to overthrow the body 
of evidence that has been advanced throughout this inquiry, in 
support of the Hypothesis of a flexible Spherule Mind. 

SECTION VIII. INTEREST OF SUCCESSION IN 
SIGHT. 

The Sense of Sight , as well as that of Hear , has its Interest of 
Succession , in a very considerable degree. 

It is admitted, that bodies in Motion are more beautiful than 
bodies at rest. 

A Woman, beautiful in face and persons, affords the most exqui¬ 
site of stationary visual Pleasures; but, by the fascinating Motions 
of her countenance , and the graceful changes of her pasture , she be¬ 
comes, altogether, an object of ineffable admiration. 

All animals, (with few exceptions,) are more beautiful in Motion, 
than when at rest. And, amongst inanimate visible objects, we take 
a successive interest in the following parts of fire works, water works, 
and the like; independent on the absolute Pleasure received from any 
one part of these, separately taken, or from all taken at once. 

The pleasure imparted by stage dancing of the best kind, is very 
great; but so long as we take pleasure in viemng it, we must be 


CHAP. XXI. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


195 


assured we manifest our uneasiness, and desire for its continuance'. It 
therefore must follow, that alternate points of dancing give pleasure 
and uneasiness (which is agreeable to the general account of pleasure 
already advanced,) and this proves to us the Interest of succession, 
exactly as takes place in hearing music. 

Every posture of the dancer , separately taken, might give some 
little pleasure ; but if she performed her dance with so long an interval 
between each two postures as to destroy the connection between the 
steps, it would prove a most insipid exhibition : in the very same way 
that we should lose all the pleasure of music if all the intervals were 
lengthened , four or five times , more than they ever are. 

The Undulations of Vision, being so very minute , have time to me, 
and fall , whilst the quickest dancer makes the smallest visible change 
of posture ; and, the successive Pleasure we receive from thisexhibition, 
is occasioned by the tumbling of the mental surface from one shape 
of Undulation to the next shape ; similarly to the tumbling which 
gives Pleasure in hearing music ; or, to the tumbling in the Sense of 
Touch during the sensitive Pleasure of walking : and, to the tumb¬ 
ling of the same Sense of Touch , in pronouncing the words of soft 
flowing measured language. 

SECTION IX. REFLECTION ON THE SENSE OF 
SIGHT. 

Whilst contemplating the conscious effects of the Sense of Sight, 
our gratitude is strongly excited toward that All-Wise and Merciful 
Creator who has so wonderfully contrived it. 

By its peculiar organization, we can receive both continued, and 



196 


JLiSSA Y UiN 


CIIAP. XXI. 


ever-varied, useful intelligences, apposited to varieties of Pleasures, 
and yet, free from any considerable visual Pain. Thus, admirably, 
it enables us to guard ourselves for the present, provide for the future* 
and, explore the probably endless avenues to knowledge! 

A most happy arrangement for the creature who is to use it, be¬ 
cause, amongst other reasons, the eyes must be continually open to 
all visual assaults, during vigilance. The Prince, as well as the 
Peasant, must take visible things, as they occur, or confine himself 
to his dwelling, and thus vastly curtail visual utility , and deprive 
himself of one of the most heartfelt Pleasures that either Peasant or 
Prince can enjoy : that of contemplating the various beauties of 
visible Nature. 

No Man can move far without viewing unseemly, as well as sightly 
objects; and, if the Motions and Undulations of Vision were so 
gross, or acute, as those of Touch , or only as those of Taste, the sight 
of a disgusting object, besides confounding intelligences, would poison 
happiness as completely as a taste of assafoetida in a portion of 
sweet food. 

But fortunately, as the fact is, the most fastidious eye may be de¬ 
lighted with a general or particular survey of visual scenery, though 
here, and there, animal and vegetable deformity, and dissolution, 
make small distinct features in the picture. 

This obviously happens because the uneasy Motions from a parti¬ 
cular visible object, is so trifling in the mass of Affections, that the 
Pain is not considerable in the general complex state of the Mind, 
the estate, or general tone of which, (it has been already argued,) is 
always a mean of all present Pleasures and Pains. 


chap. xxr. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


197 


Here, I think it well to repeat what I have already advanced in 
Chapter XVII, that we must discriminate, in all cases, between Sen¬ 
sations, as such , and Sensations associated. And, every thing I have 
here advanced concerning their Powers to move the Mind, extends 
merely to their absolute sensible Power, which appears in all cases 
exactly proportioned to the degree of physical stimulus; the Plea¬ 
sures and Pains from which may, however, be augmented in the ab¬ 
solute Interest of succession. 

The finer Senses, besides their other utility, being the advanced 
guards of the grosser, to warn them from approaching danger, must 
be continually open to agitation; and, if the Motions, or Undula¬ 
tions , of the finer Senses, were so large as those of the grosser, their 
agitation must not only tend to continual confusion of Sense, but 
the nervous medium would be as soon exhausted by seeing and 
hearing , as by walking and dancing. But, the minuteness of the Mo¬ 
tions of the f iner Senses, explains, (physically,) why they affect the 
Mind so slightly, and distinctly ; and, why the nervous medium is 
hardly ever exhausted by supplying stimulus to these Senses. 

Of the two fine Senses, Sight being consciously, and physically, 
weakest , and most indispensibly on duty, is least capable of paining 
us by its Motions; and, it may be supplied by the nervous Medium 
longer without exhaustion, than can the Sense of Hear, and much 
longer than can that of Touch. 

The whole of this view, like every other we can take of the ar¬ 
rangements of infinite wisdom, must excite our adoration of the in¬ 
finite goodness of the contriver. 


198 


CHAP. XXII. 


ESSAY ON 

io mma item* oi sd bluow h bg t am a& 

lisuuta eidb ni < ,.u ; dgintafidv t*. tawr 

-\ ( H £hi■ tioqqOft oi x^vva iiiuifc i ' ub Japo^iD 


bnii£ $n; 


CHAPTER XXII. 


■ — - -- -- 

A SECOND RETROSPECT OF THE SUBJECT ADVANCED. 


I have now gone through those several species of mental opera¬ 
tions, wherein we can trace an evident immediate connection be¬ 
tween conscious and physical processes of Mind and Body, the 
connection between which enables us to reason with probability, and 
may, at least, furnish opinion. 

In the evidences adduced throughout, considering the mind phy+ 
sically , I do but imagine what it is, by what it does , and what it does 
not. Therefore, if I am not mistaken in the facts cited, I think the 
inference drawn, is, at least, allowably drawn. 

It then becomes an object to consider the weight , variety , and ex¬ 
tent, of the facts so cited, together with all facts of a similar nature, 
which are known to take place in ordinary; and, against this mass 
of evidence, to place facts (if any can be brought) that stand in op¬ 
position to the Hypothesis: which, having fairly done, we are to 
make up a judgment as to which side preponderates. 

To imagine that nothing can be brought in apparent opposition 






CHAP. XXII. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


199 


would be as vain, as it would be unjust to yield to a small mass of 
evidence, whilst possessing a very large mass; but, as in this search 
I have no object but truth, I shall never labour to support my Hy¬ 
pothesis longer than I think it will support itself. 

The Mechanism of the general government of affection in the Mind 
is physically represented by a flexible Ball, with a juxta-position that 
amounts (I think) to nothing short of demonstration of similitude in 
manner. *■ 

The particular operations of Sensations , forming the Hypothesis of 
Undulations , may, perhaps, not be hit upon with the same accuracy, 
and, if so, I am open to correction. But, any error in minute detail 
cannot destroy the Hypothesis of Undulations ; and others may trace 
these minute processes with more happy effect. I here confess that 1 
have not given such processes that strict consideration, as a part of 
my general plan , that they must demand in their own right; and, 
what I have said of them, is meant but as a mere hint or indi¬ 
cation. 

If the general view of the subject should be found just, any defi¬ 
ciency in this instance, will leave opportunity, for those who are com¬ 
petent, to point out what ought to be. 


200 


ESSAY ON 


ciiap. xxin. 


*il MuhL'CH: v T 

Oil) glHCUVUU- 7 , • • ; 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

kmtfrtq v-it ... , 

/or/ ' \ h ” 

OF MEMORY. 

~ -.-■ ■■ ■■■■■ — -.- -■. = 

SECTION I. BRAIN NO AGENT OE MEMORY. 

The mechanism of minute processes having been considered, both in 
general , and particular , so far as to comprehend Sensations , even to 
the finest Sense, inclusive ; there now remains only those yet more 
fine species of Feeling denominated Ideas and Notions , which form 
the materials of Memory and Imagination. 

In entering upon this part of my subject, I am of necessity to take 
leave of most of those aids, conscious and physical , which have 
served to guide me thus far; and must, therefore, be content to draw 
allowable inferences from what has already been advanced, corrobo¬ 
rated, here and there, by circumstances of probability. 

Memory so certainly depends upon the state, or Action , of the 
Brainy that many acute observers have been led to suppose it the 
immediate agent of Thought. This, however, is not a necessary 
consequence, and Brain may be supposed to possess a most im- 






ciiap. xxin. HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


201 


portant instrumentality, without being itself Mind, or without its 
Motions being the Motions of Mind. 

After what has been advanced in this inquiry, concerning the 
operations of a flexible Spherule Mind, surrounded by the Brain; it 
2 s easily conceivable, that a particular state.of the Brain may prevent 
any superficial Motion of Mind; and thus stop the process of Ideas , 
and, even, of Sensations. 

It is farther conceivable, that an inflamed Brain may inflict irre¬ 
gular, or even violent impulses ; which will confuse all correct think¬ 
ing, and thus produce delirium or insanity. 

Again, another state of Brain, (such perhaps as its languid Ac¬ 
tion,) may induce a hypochondriacal state of Mind, wherein, perhaps, a 
Man reasons more clear, and deep, than during good health, although 
his conclusions may be gloomy ; which results would oftner happen 
in healthy persons if they stretched their Minds to embrace every se¬ 
rious consideration of their existence. And it may indeed be, that 
loud mirth , however happy, is more nearly related to insanity, than 
silent melancholy. 

I shall not, here, enter deeper into this concern, because it will be 
proper to consider the office of the Brain in another place: but, it 
may be seen, at once, that, agreeably to this Hypothesis, thinking 
may certainly depend upon the Action of the Brain, though the Mind 
be quite a distinct Thing. 


202 


ESSAY ON 


chap. xxnr. 


•fir jV-.OiI.I •;# . • . h'' ' •• V ‘ 

SECTION II. INTEREST GIVES MEMORY. 

I confess myself to labour under the opinion, that the cause of re¬ 
tention has not been adequately considered by those, in general, who 
have treated upon it. 

We usually find it asserted, that attention is necessary to give du¬ 
rability to Ideas; and if the term attention be strained to an impro¬ 
per extent, the assertion becomes true. 

We may be said to attend to that which we are under necessity to 
attend to. And I agree, that Memory will ever be found propor¬ 
tioned to the degree of Interest in the original feeling, whether this 
Interest be pleasing or painful. But, the extent of the term,, atten¬ 
tion has been fixed, in being explained a Voluntary Act: and, it must 
be from a similar view of the subject that Dr. Hartley speaks of “ ex¬ 
press acts of Memory ” which I have noticed in Chapter II., though 
nothing is more certain than that Memory is always dependent upon 
interested attention, and not upon mere voluntary attention. 

Confine an unprofitable boy for hours, repeating over his lesson, 
and, though he must have Volition to read, yet, having little Interest , 
you shall find he does not imbibe a single idea , deep enough to be re. 
gained, especially if his mind is occupied by the Interests of apples , 
cakes , or play : but, if the painful Interest of punishment turns the 
scale, he will remember his lesson; or, if it be couched in interesting 
shapes , he will catch it up quickly. Hence the use of adapting in¬ 
struction to juvenile minds by pleasing tales which interest them. 
So universally true is this, that, I have already said, perhaps it is on e 


CHAP. XXIII. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


203 


of the grand purposes of Pleasure and Pain , to secure to us the bene¬ 
fits of experience by Memory. 

Mr. Locke, indeed, does justice to Pleasure, and Pain, in this ques¬ 
tion ; and allows, that attention , and repetition , only “ help much tc 
the fixing any Ideas in the Memory/’ But if attention, and repeti¬ 
tion, do not produce repetition of Interest , 1 hold it will not help 
much to fix ideas. 

Upon the whole, I think it a very cold , and inadequate expression 
to say only, that attention (as a voluntary act,) is necessary to reten¬ 
tion ; since the degree of retention will ever be found (other circum¬ 
stances being equal,) strictly in proportion to the Interest of the 
thing remembered - 

Here I must repeat what I have noticed in Chapter IV. that al¬ 
most every sort of knowledge or thought , besides being knowledge or 
thought, is apposited with Pleasure , or Pain , of some sort, or degree. 
And I assume, that it is always in proportion to the degree of the ap¬ 
posited Pleasure , or Pain , that any knowledge or thought is remem¬ 
bered , all other things being equal. 

A Sensation may produce considerable Perception , and yet be eva¬ 
nescent as to Pleasure or Pain, in which case it is always quickly for¬ 
gotten, unless repetition, at last, gives opening to some Interest. 

SECTION III. MEMORY IS PASSIVE, AND EXISTS 
WITH MOTION. 

Memory, I find to be, a sympathetic unavoidable suffering , or af¬ 
fection of the Mind, being the effect of a tendency it has to relapse 


204 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XXIII. 


into any feeling (simple, or complex) which it has once, or oftner, 
suffered. Such sympathetic relapse being brought on by <ray Affec¬ 
tion that resembles the whole, or any part, of the original feeling. 

The only conscious difference between a picture attentively seen, 
and the same picture immediately remembered, is in degree of 
Strength , and, farther, in the loss of a number of minute features , very 
much resembling the deficiency of correctness of impression that 
might follow from an engraved plate being imperfectly impressed 
upon paper. 

When a complex Sensation of Vision is remembered, we have 
a faint copy of it in the Mind, the imperfections , or obliterations , of 
which lie in those parts that were its least interesting features; but, 
when a simple Sensation of Vision, or of any other Sense, is remem¬ 
bered, it appears a correct copy, wanting only in strength of Affec¬ 
tion ; and even strength will not be wanting if the original feeling 
has been deep, as Pleasure or Pain. 

Now, if the Originals of these feelings were conveyed to the Mind 
by physical Motions on its exterior Surface, (as we infer that copies 
are fainter relapses into similar feeling,) we may suppose such relap¬ 
ses are accompanied by Motions, and Undulations, which, though 
much smaller, are of the very same nature with the Originals. 

Especially should this be the case, since not only Ideas are un¬ 
doubted copies of Sensations , but they recur in the very same way 
that Sensations themselves assault us, that is to say, irresistibly, and 
never, in any instance, either attracted, or repelled, by the immediate 
energy of Volition; 

If we remember a Thing brought in by Association, this Affection is, 


CHAP. XXIII. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


205 


notoriously, forced upon us : but, if we try to recollect a thing, the 
Will puts us in this and that mood, or posture of thought, until, at 
length, the thing strikes us by the same medium of Association, as 
much as if it had occurred unsought. 

Thus, if I wish to recollect a circumstance that passed at a particular 
house a week ago, I transport my attention , by a volition, to the house, 
and let the party, and their converse, pass in attentive review , until at 
length , I recollect the matter sought. Here the memory of the 
thing is no more a voluntary act (or an act at all) than my getting 
wet is an act , if I chuse to walk out when it rains. To walk out 
when it rains is an act; but, to get wet is a suffering in consequence 
of such act. 

If I go, voluntarily , to see a spectacle, I nevertheless suffer the sight 
of it; and when I remember it, I do nothing but suffer in Idea, as I 
before suffered in Sensation. But, if I have forgot the particulars, 
and wisi > to recal them, I take a voluntary retrospect; until, at 
length , I suffer again the same (or something like the same,) that I 
suffered in the two former cases. 

When we Will to forget a thing, our voluntary power is again 
humbled; because the very way to think of a thing we do not wish 
to think on, is a direct Volition to drive it away. 

Opinions have been divided not only on this subject, but as to 
whether the Mind is active in Perception of external objects, and 
even in Sensation. Now, what I have supported throughout is, that in 
all search after Memory, Imagination, and all Knowledge, the Mind is 
so far active, that it exerts attention; and then, if it succeeds, the 
Memory, Imagination, or Knowledge, strikes it in such posture, as 


206 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XXIII. 


the Sun’s light darts in through a window, or passing clouds over¬ 
shadow us. 

Proper Motion has been throughout adopted as the occasion of all 
Feeling, or Knowledge; and, reasoning physically from the nature 
of a flexible Spherule, we must infer, that every Feeling, if occasioned 
by Motion , is accompanied by deformity or Undulation; therefore, 
every time the Mind is replaced by internal sympathy under a 
similar Feeling, the Motions of that Feeling will re-produce the ori¬ 
ginal external or superficial deformity. 

Memory, at this rate, is operatively , as well as consciously , a refined 
species of Sensation, consequently subject to the same Laws that re¬ 
gulate sensitive operations; but, though Motions occasion Sensa¬ 
tions, and accompany Memory, it is obvious I never suppose Motion, 
itself, to constitute Sensation. It is Motion of Mind only , which con¬ 
stitutes Sensation : and, the same Motion in matter , would occasion 
nothing but change of form. 

Thus considered, I adopt the position, that neither Ideas , nor 
their retention , nor Association, are constituted by mere Motion; but, 
that all these are constituted by a mental property ; and, of course, 
from an internal source; where, and by which alone, Sensations 
themselves are constituted. 

The most decisive argument for this, though properly belonging 
to the present article, I shall reserve for the next Chapter, wherein I 
shall submit considerations that appear to amount to strong proba¬ 
bility : though I shall, even here, advance some that seem im¬ 
portant. 


chap, xxii r. HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


207 


SECTION IV. MEMORY IS REVIVED FEELING. 

Notwithstanding whatever has been ingeniously advanced, and 
received, concerning the tendency of cerebral Vibrations to call up 
each other after synchronous repetition, even to the greatest extent 
of complex thought, and passion, (to be treated farther on,) I must 
here offer a result, from my own Consciousness, that though the 
Nerves should stimulate the Mind an hundred times, we never shall 
have any Memory , except precisely in the manner , and degree , 
of Pleasure or Pain: of which I gave an instance in Chapter 
XIII. 

If my eyes embrace an hundred objects at once, I shall be most 
conscious of just so many of them as I notice with Interest; which 
may be ten district features. Now, if after a lapse of time, I 
Chance to have a Sensation from any one of these ten features, the 
Ideas of the other nine will start, duly arranged, into my Mind: 
and this irresistibly , exactly as has the present. Sensation of the 
one. V 

Again, if these ten features have been originally contemplated 
with different degrees of Interest; that is tq^s^y, different degrees of 
Pleasure or Pain , they will now stand re-produced, each with 
vividness, and precision, exactly proportioned to their original In¬ 
terests, although the nervous Vibrations that produced the Sen¬ 
sations must have been all of nearly equal force. And, the remain¬ 
ing ninety objects, formerly present without any Interest or notice, 
will not be remembered any more than if they had never existed. 


208 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XXIII. 


What then is Memory, in this case, but mere Feeling , or a relapse 
of the Mind into the xvhole of a pi'ior complex Consciousness the in¬ 
stant the Mind is re-impressed, from without, by the smallest feature 
of the said Consciousness: or, perhaps, by any Feeling approaching , 
in tone , to any such feature. 

Though the Sensation from the one object is an external impulse, 
accompanied by its proper Undulation , yet, the Feeling of Pleasure, 
or Pain of this Sensation, is internal ; and, the sympathy which 
reproduces the other nine Ideas, is also internal; but will, neverthe¬ 
less, be accompanied by Motions , or Undulations on the Minds sur¬ 
face, of the very same sort that had originally been imparted by 
the Sensations of the nine. 

There certainly is but one store-house of knowledge in the 
Mind : we have not separate departments, for sensual, and for 
intellectual Memory; but, all materials are laid up together, and 
re-occur together, as laid in. Sensual and intellectual, all intermixed 
and bound together as they were originally felt. 

If a Sensation, of whatever Sense, either conveys, oris marked 
together with, an intellectual Passion, we shall remember these two, 
synchronously; and, if the synchronous Affection has been more 
complexly interesting, so will be the remembrance. 

Now, if sensual Affections are occasioned by motions of the Mind, 
I suppose, (from their forming complex Affections with intellectual Af¬ 
fections, in a physical Mind,) that intellectual Affections, also, are 
accompanied by Motions. All which Motions, perhaps, exist on 
the Surface of the Mind, as is the case with Ideas, and Sensations, 
though no figure can be assigned to them. This is farther probable, 


chap, xxiii. HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


209 


because strong intellectual Memory moves the body, and, at least, 
affects circulation and other such processes. If this be supposed, 
then any changes of Brain , that check, or alter, the Motions of the 
Mind's surface, will affect not only Ideas , but all intellectual Thoughts; 
and thus derange Memory altogether, more or less, accordingly as 
the Brain is unduly agitated : as we find takes place during deranged 
functions of the Brain. 

SECTION V. RETENTION NOT FROM VIBRATION 

The Visual Idea of a dying friend haunts the Mind as a dreadful 
reality, and cannot, for a time, be expelled ; but, no one can sup¬ 
pose that our deep anguish then, or now, is the effect of force in 
visual Vibrations ; and, if not visual Vibrations , there is still less rea* 
son to suppose the distress caused by Vibrations belonging to any 
other part of the Brain. 

Contrary to any vibratory Theory, the strength of retention and 
A ssociation depend not properly on strength of collateral nervous 
Vibrations, nor upon their collateral repetitions. 

The heavy jolting of a horse, or an elephant, especially if uncom¬ 
mon, must produce stronger nervous Vibrations, and mental motions, 
than those of any visual Sensation, yet such motions not affecting 
our happiness deeply, are soon forgot. But, the sight of a 
loathsome object shall relapse the Mind, by sympathy with some 
former misery , in a degree to produce no less than bodily convulsion. 

Here we see, that Ideas are faint Feelings only when the origi¬ 
nals are faint ; but they] are really very deep Feelings when they are 

e e 


210 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XX III. 


copies of Feelings with great Pleasures or Pains, though conveyed 
by very slight nervous Vibrations. 

The sight of a leech, or a finger moving like a leech, will throw 
some persons into horrors,which surely cannot proceed from strength 
©f visual nervous Vibrations; but, from the intellectual Pain that the 
sight of a leech has once occasioned : and the same happens, some¬ 
times, from remembering loathsome food, and other affections. 

If I ascend a height and, from its summit enjoy a scene at once 
beautiful and sublime : at the same time I hear the bleat of sheep, 
with the shepherd’s pipe ; and refresh myself with food of ordinary 
gust; whilst also 1 am sensible of various effect s of fatigue; all these 
several intelligences are felt as distinct Sensations , which I suppose to 
be occasioned by mental Motions of different sizes , and energies ; 
and perhaps differing in unknown ways. 

Now, all the Vibratory strongest of these intelligences interest me 
very little, because they afford but little Pleasure or Pain , being very 
ordinary Sensations. The consequence will be, that my particular 
feelings of fatigue, with the particular modes of Taste , and Sound, I 
suffered on that day’s march, will soon be forgot. 

The same forgetfulness will happen of all my visual Affections 
which gave little Pleasure or Pain ; such as, the particular features 
of the land; particular aspect of the atmosphere, and of the 
sea: of all which I should retain only a very general outline 
remembrance. 

But, if this mountain were on some solitary sea-beat Isle, far from 
my Country, and those I love; and, if I were trying to escape from it, 
upon a frail vessel of my own painful fabrication, I should then 


chap, xxiii. HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


211 


well mark every feature of my situation; every visible change of 
atmosphere ; and, farther, feel the temper of the surge. 

Here I should perceive, that every third surf was higher than the 
two preceding ; and, perhaps, imagine that every ninth surpassed the 
magnitude of every third , in uniform repetition. Every which ninth 
would, therefore, go to my heart; and thus, grafting Memory upon 
Feeling, I should, in launching my vessel of forlorn hope, have due 
regard to times; and, if Providence crowned my exertions, the risk 
of hopeless banishment would indelibly imprint the features of this 
scene upon my Mind. 

In this case, visual Sensation, though doubtless produced by the 
weakest nervous Vibrations, produces the most ^indelible Memory, 
merely by being apposited with intellectual Pain. 

I have been in many storms at sea, and other adventures, yet, 
now, remember very few of their particular features. Those re¬ 
tained are, in general, the earliest of such feelings, and that, merely » 
because I felt them more painfully; but I have forgot subsequent 
ones, because they made very little impression on me. Now, through 
all these I must suppose the nervous Vibration to have been nearly 
as strong in one case as in another. 

By the time a man has reached the middle of life, he has become 
so accustomed to ordinary occurrences, that they make much less 
impression, either as Pleasures, or Pains, than in early life: and the 
consequence is, that in mid-life, what we read, and what we say, or 
do in ordinary, is more apt to be lost than the intelligences of early 
life. Though, at this time, our nervous vibrations are more vigorous 
than at any time of our lives. 


212 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XXIII. 


SECTION VI. ASSOCIATION NOT FROM VIBRATION 

That Association is not the effect of a concomitance of cerebral Vi¬ 
brations, or, that Ideas are not thus joined by nervous agency, I may 
farther argue from the fact of our often retaining the import of what 
we have either read , or heard , without being able to relate either, in 
any thing like the original terms. 

Nothing is more common than for two or more persons, of good 
understandings and characters, to give solemn evidence to what *has 
been said by others, agreeing in substance , and yet differing consi¬ 
derably as to the Vibratory fact of the terms which they heard. 

Hence it is usual to find witnesses depose, that a plaintiff, or de¬ 
fendant, said so and so, “ or, words to that effect.” 

This could not so usually happen, nor, perhaps, happen at all, if 
Association was a fact merely Vibratory , because as the words heard 
must be supposed to be Vibrations more gross than the Ideas they 
convey , we ought to remember such words at least as unchangeably 
as their import; but the fact is, that a man who has heard, read, or 
felt , in a desultory way, without burthening his memory with verbal 
arrangements, will, however, retain the sentiments of his authors in 
a pretty extensive degree, without being able to pronounce a Vibra¬ 
tory repetition of two lines out of any one of them. 

In such cases, we remember only what we feel; and, as the marrow 
of an author is different from, and often much smaller than his words, 
though these last all Vibrate in perusal, yet, as they do not indivi- 


chap. xxur. HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


213 


dually interest us, we lose, or even'unwarily change them in Memory 
without losing, or changing, the interesting feelings received. 

But, a stronger fact than the foregoing daily takes place ; and if 
Association be a mere nervous Vibratory fact, we should at any rate, 
expect that words heard, or voluntarily pronounced by ourselves, if 
not remembered, would, at least, be accompanied by the Ideas which 
we have always attached to them. 

Far other is frequently the case. It is found an objection to 
a fixed form of prayer that we are apt (notwithstanding a religious 
Volition), to repeat our petitions whilst our thoughts are sordidly gro¬ 
velling in concerns unworthy even of mortals. In such cases, the 
Creed, and the Decalogue are pronounced, and vibrate with ex¬ 
istence of Ideas of Vanity, Luxury, Power, and, perhaps, much worse; 
whilst Ideas of our duty (which we have a thousand times associated 
with the Vibrations of both seeing, and hearing, the words of prayer,) 
are as much out of Mind as though we had never known them. 

The circumstances here are particularly unfavourable to a vibra¬ 
tory Hypothesis. 

In church, when we are warned by the monitory Vibrations of the 
Pastor s voice, awed by visual Vibrations from tombs formidable in 
emblems of death; and impressed by the exterior solemnity of the 
whole scene, what is the result? The interested Mind, dead to 
all these Vibratory remonstrances, holds converse only with itself. 
The Miser schemes his own wrong of some remaining comfort; 
the Hypocrite deceives his dearest friend ; the perjured, and un¬ 
grateful, meditate crimes of a new relish; and all the efforts of Vi¬ 
bratory accusation in vain strive to disturb their several reveries. 


214 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XXIII. 


In all these cases, we see, Interest , in a moment, destroys the 
boasted Association betwixt vibratory and intellectual Affections, 
or, equally, between two vibratory impulses. 

It is therefore conscious Interest , (and not concomitance of Vibra¬ 
tions,) that radically operates to associate mental Affections. 

I’lie Sounds of many words, in different circumstances, call up 
opposite Ideas; but, if the Idea be onty the mere vibratory associate 
of the Sound, (arising from concomitant repetition,) then, though any 
Sound might be supposed to call up two Ideas, (if two have been, 
at different times, associates with it,) I cannot conceive how one of 
these Ideas could ever sleep whilst the other is called up; but should 
suppose, that the same Sound must inevitably call up a gross, and 
a decent Idea, at the same time, 

This fact, indeed, does sometimes take place in cases where the 
Mind has once had a vitiated Interest in a gross Idea whilst expres¬ 
sing the Sound of a decent one ; but, such Associations never arise if 
such vitiated Interest has never existed: and, our language has 
many expressions that may convince us of this fact. 

The same reasoning holds in the Sense of Vision, with regard to 
similar sights, which, under opposite Interests, call up totally op¬ 
posite associated Ideas, whilst the other associated Ideas sleep. And, 
it is a certain proof of a sickly Sensibility, (though Sensibility it is,) 
when the same Sound, or Vision, calls up two opposite Ideas ; be¬ 
cause, it evinces a depraved Interest, which, at best, is unfortunate. 

In all this, I do not at all argue against the power, or effects, of 
Association ; but only to show that Association is not the effect of 
concomitance of Vibrations. 


CIIAP. XXIII. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


215 


SECTION VII. MEMORY IS GRATUITOUS. 

Memory, being sympathetic, is a species of zveakness, rather than 
strength ; and, no doubt, depends on susceptibility of Mind, all other 
circumstances being equal. 

Ideas and Notions, during both Memory and Imagination , occur, 
or strike , in the very same way with Sensations , that is, irresistibly : 
and, the rough materials of Knowledge being thus gratuitously af¬ 
forded, either accidentally or upon the searching about of rational 
Volition, it is the business of Reason to work upon them ; and this is 
an endless employment, wherein it has opportunity to display that 
superiority granted by its adorable Creator, over the Minds of other 
animated, known, beings. 

But, all that Reason can do, however, toward producing Memory, 
is to hunt about for the ready formed materials , when wanted; in 
doing which, they will often cast up in larger , or smaller , complex 
masses than we happen to want; and these are out of our power to 
create, or annihilate: nay, or any how to alter, (as Memory ,) though 
we may pick out any part thereof, for what purpose we chuse. 

SECTION VIII. SUCCESSIVE MEMORY. 

Synchronous Memory being argued to be sympathetic, it is easily 
conceivable how successive Memory, being also sympathetic, may 
tak. place. 


216 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XXIII. 


Every step in successive Memory, such as Memory of a Tune , or 
a Poem, is but a succession of revived Feelings. 

Each of these steps, as they occurred in Sensation, had put the 
Mind into a new state of Feeling, Motion, and Posture; but, each 
of such new Feelings was suggested by the next preceding one, inso¬ 
much, that if it had not been for the Posture that went before, this jPOtfrf 
of the Mind’s Surface could not have been tumbled into the next that 
followed, the Motion of which tumble was a new Feeling. Thus 
the steps have an evident connection, and they contribute each, in a 
wa} T , to beget the next succeeding one. Now, the Mind must feel 
in Memory, as it felt in Sensation, therefore the succession seems 
matter of course. 

Upon the Hypothesis of Undulation it is evident why we cannot , 
at first, repeat the Alphabet, or aught else, backward, without la¬ 
bour ; because, the whole retrograde process must consist of new 
Feelings, and must tumble the Surface of the Mind, from step to step, 
in a way that it never was tumbled before; consequently it can have 
no sympathetic tendency to relapse into Motions or Feelings which 
it never had, but must learn them as new Sensations. 

In describing the supposed Undulation of the Mind's Surface I 
have occasionally called it tumbling ; a term confessedly not elegant: 
but I beg to apologise, generally, though thus late in so doing, that 
I have in many cases thought it becoming to illustrate by simplicity 
of phrase ; and, in all, by familiarity of incident. My aim through¬ 
out has been to ground the Hypothesis on the most ordinary and con¬ 
vincing facts, rather than on extraordinary or surprising ones. 


ciiap. xxiii. HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


217 


SECTION IX. REFLECTION ON MEMORY. 

Though much has been advanced, in other parts of the inquiry 
and here together, upon the subject of Memory , the whole comprises 
but a very imperfect sketch : I shall, however, stop with a reflection. 

It appears grandly fit , that an accountable Behig should have 
Memory ever grafted upon Interest of Feeling and Action; and 
wholly independent on voluntary Power. We may, it is true, volun¬ 
tarily improve our Memories, to the extension of Knowlege; but, 
all Men above idiotcy have natural Memory enough for moral ac¬ 
countableness : and, of this sure effect of Interest they cannot di¬ 
vest themselves , any more than they can refuse those pains which so 
often prove the safeguard of their bodies from destruction. 

As mere locomotive animals, (and far more as accountable Beings,) 
we cannot make any essential distinction betwixt that species of Feel¬ 
ing called Memoiy and the indispensible Feeling of Touch. Both 
belong to the innate susceptibility of the Mind ; and, when either is 
durably suspended, it is by the same means; that is, by some undue 
Affection of the Body , exterior to Mind: whilst, (agreeably to the 
Hypothesis of a Spherule Mind,) whatever general external pressure 
shall prevent the finer Motions of the Mind's Surface, thus prevents 
Ideas and other processes of Memory . 


Ff 


218 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XXIV. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


OF THE INCAPABILITY 01 THE BRAIN TO PERFORM MENTAL FUNCTIONS. 


SECTION I. TWO SCHEMES OPPOSED. 

I am now again brought, of necessity, to a consideration which I had 
not embraced when I first entered upon this inquiry, which is that 
of entering a contrast, to an extent far beyond what I have yet done, 
of the present Hypothesis with one previously existing and received, 
as the produce of both genius and learning. Being, however, thus 
far adventured, it is due to the subject that I should follow it 
through. 

In the progress of this inquiry it has been my care, as much as 
possible, to confine myself to a simple recital of my own feelings ; al¬ 
ways sensible of my many disadvantages, and, of the perilous novelty 
of the ground which I have chosen ; and if, at any time, I have ap¬ 
peared to express myself with improper confidence, I beg it may be 
understood as only the position of argument. 

At the time of my falling upon the leading Hypothesis, and expla- 






CHAP. XXIV. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


219 


nation, herein contained, I was, in a great measure, a stranger to 
whatever has been written on the subject, with grateful exception of 
the Essay of Mr. Locke; and having from the beginning laid the 
basis and general plan of the present Hypothesis: it became an af¬ 
terwork to compare my thoughts with those of learned Theorists, an 
advantage till then out of my power, being at the time I formed my 
scheme secluded in a very remote part of the world, as far from aid 
of books, as from learned men. 

Debilitated health and consequent indolence, have since then con¬ 
tributed to prevent my giving that subsequent attention to the la¬ 
bours of others, that their merits, and the nature of my pursuit, re¬ 
quire ; but, what I have been able to gather from existing Theories 
has not enabled me to explode the Hypothesis here raised ; nor has 
their light been directed so as to guide me in the new path which I 
attempt. 

There is, I believe, only one scheme extant which appears to bear 
any relation to the present. This one has been already noticed, in 
several parts of my inquiry, and it is so radically different from that 
here offered, that one of the two must be unfounded , at least as to 
physical Hypothesis. 

The scheme of Dr. Hartley, though still more grossly mechanical 
than the present one, differs from it both principally and operatively ; 
and it becomes unavoidable that I should endeavour to point out 
these differences in some instances, wherein I think he deviates as 
much from physical probability, as he does from the Hypothesis here 
advanced. 


220 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XXIV. 


SECTION II. DOCTRINE OF VIBRATIONS INDICATES 
MATERIALISM. 

Notwithstanding the protest Dr. Hartley has entered against 
proving the Mind material from any thing he has advanced, I do 
not see how he has left us any choice; and the doctrine of mate¬ 
rialism, maintained by Dr. Priestley, appears to me to be warranted 
by the doctrine of Vibratory Association. 

It however appears, that such was not the conclusion drawn by 
Dr. Hartley himself; and many of his statements are certainly 
much more favourable to the Hypothesis which is here upheld, than 
to that of a cerebral Mind. 

He even supposes an “ infinitisemal elementary Body to be in¬ 
termediate between the Soul, and gross Body :” and concludes, that 
though his Hypothesis of cerebral functions is true in a very useful 
practical Sense, it is “ not so in an ultimate and precise one.” 

Such general suppositions as he here uses, would have well suited 
my scheme ; and the only difference is, that Dr. Hartley supposes 
“ some peculiar original property in the elementary Bodywhich 
may be, “ the source of changes” whilst I, also, suppose such a 
property ; but, suppose it to exist not in the elementary Body, but 
in the Mind itself. 

Now Dr. Hartley, himself, admits, that “ If changes have some 
other source , besides the Vibrations in the medullary substance, 
then Vibrations will not be adequate exoonents of Sensations, 
Ideas, and Notions.” 


CHAP. XXIV. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


221 


This avowal, notwithstanding the general nature, and tendency , of 
his vibratory Theory, is altogether favourable to my view; but, 
unfortunately it appears, that after supposing an elementary Body , 
and acknowledging a Soul , he has not left either of them any duties 
to perform. 

He appears to make medullary Vibrations not merely occasions of 
Sensations , Ideas , and their Associations ; but, in fact, the Agents , 
not only of these, but of all judgments, passions , and mere intellec¬ 
tual operations whatever. 

On the contrary, the view here adopted, whilst it equally and in- 
dispensibly supposes a Soul , and a nervous System; together, proba¬ 
bly, with some elementary Body , assigns to each of these three Reali¬ 
ties relative and important duties. 

Nervous Motions are absolutely necessary to afford Consciousness; 
but, I suppose, they avail nothing until they have passed through 
the elementary medium* if there be such, and hare actually moved 
the Surface of the Mind. The Mind being thus moved, becomes the 
internal “ source of changes ,” as it is the source of Feelings , because 
Consciousness on impulse is one of its “ peculiar properties*” 

Now, I apprehend, that we may question a cerebral Mind, if we 
can shew, first, that the Brain is physically incapable of the func¬ 
tions of Mind; and again, if it can be shown by the present inquiry, 
that the functions of Mind can be performed in another way. 


222 


ESSAY ON 


chap, xxir. 


SECTION III. SENSATIONS BY THE BRAIN, 
PHYSICALLY INCONCEIVABLE. 

Vibrations of the infinitisemal particles of the whole medullary 
substance of the Brain, appear to be the operations, agreeably 
to Dr. Hartley, of all conscious affections, generally speaking : 
and, doubtless, they are taken as such by Dr. Priestley, after Dr. 
Hartley. 

! Now, considered in a general physical light, I imagine there are 
only two possible conditions of the arrangement of these infini¬ 
tisemal particles. 

They are either compressed together unorganized , and free to 
vibrate in every direction: or, they are compressed together orga¬ 
nized, therefore fettered, or, at least, biassed, in their modes of 
action. The great liberty of direction 'required in Dr. Hartley’s 
Theory, perhaps demands nearly an unorganized state, though I 
suppose there is little doubt that he admitted the whole Medulla is 
organized. 

Let us, however, suppose the greatest liberty, without any re¬ 
gard of the real structure of the Medulla, because Dr. Hartley says, 
“ As soon as those Vibrations enter the Brain, they begin to be pro¬ 
pagated, freely, every way, over the whole Medullary substance.* 

He also supposes, (I think truly) that, as the Vibration of any 
Nerve will enter the Brain in the line of direction of that Nerve, the 
said Vibration may preserve the same line of direction to some dis- 


chap. xxiv. HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


tance within the Brain. “ Hence the same internal parts of the 
Brain may be made to vibrate in different directions according to 
the different directions by which the Vibrations enter/' 

To this supposition I may add, (agreeably to Dr. Hartley himself,) 
though it is of no great consequence, that the Nerves being conti¬ 
nuous, and of the same uniform Substance withthe Brain, both must 
be supposed to admit the same sorts of diffusion, or mixture, of Vibra¬ 
tions , during the times such Vibrations are travelling, in synchronous 
groups, along the trunks of Nerves, before they reach the Brain at 
large. 

All this being supposed, agreeably to that Hypothesis, let us now 
suppose ourselves viewing a scene, consisting of an hundred objects, 
(as Houses, Trees, Men, and Cattle ;) each of which must consist of 
a vast number of visible features, all which we can, certainly, per¬ 
ceive at once, though we cannot examine them all at once. 

In such an instance, I must suppose that the complex Picture which 
exists, synchronously, upon the Retina of the Eye, travels thus mar¬ 
shalled along the optic Trunk, until it reaches the seat of Sensa¬ 
tion . 

Now, I ask, how we can, physically, conceive these hundred com¬ 
plex columns of Vibrations, each column being many smaller calumns, 
can travel, synchronously, along the whole length of the optic Trunk 
without mixing, and confounding, before they reach the seat of Sen¬ 
sation ? That is to say, if they possess liberty of variation equal to 
that supposed, by Dr. Hartley, of the Brain at large. 

But, as Dr. Hartley, in another place, supposes the Nerves to be capil¬ 
lary filaments, wc will ?ioz& suppose Vibrations not at liberty, but that 


224 


ESSAY ON 


CIIAP. XXIV. 


they are governed, so as to reach the Brain properly marshalled; 
which I think the most probable supposition. I then ask, how these 
hundred columns of Vibrations, each column being many hundred co¬ 
lumns, can, after they reach the Brain, each take up a wide extent 
of ground, “ over the whole medullary substance,” (if that be neces¬ 
sary,) without overwhelming and confusing each other? 

But again, supposing both these great objections of no account, 
or out of the way. Considering the known arrangement of the Nerves , 
and known seat of Sensation, it must happen, that all the group, or 
picture, of innumerable complex columns of Vibrations , must reach the 
very region of Sensation immediately upon quitting the Optic Trutik; 
and, therefore, if they require the farther elaboration of a general 
diff usion over the Substance of the Brain , they must be thus diffused 
after they have reached, and passed, the region of Sensation; whilst 
the “ whole substance of the Brain,” (thus supposed necessary to 
effect Sensations,) is less sensitive than , the region they have previ¬ 
ously passed. 

Dr. Hartley, himself, fairly states, that the very interior only of the 
Brain is the seat of Sensation, and modern investigations confirm 
that it is very central indeed. 

The following passage from the physiology of Mons. Richerand 
will assist the present purpose of recollecting this fact. “ Soemmer¬ 
ing has traced the roots of Nerves, and particularly those of Smell, 
Sight, Hearing, and Taste, as far as the eminences in the parietes of 
the ventricles of the Brain; and believes that their ultimate extremi¬ 
ties are moistened by the serosity on the contiguity of the internal 
Surfaces. It may be conjectured, with a degree of probability, that 


CIIAP. XXIV. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


225 


the cerebral extremities of Nerves unite in one determined point in 
the cerebral Organ, and to this point, which seems to be the annular 
;protuberance of the Medulla oblongata, all Sensations are carried, 
while all determinations are given from it, whence arises voluntary 
motion.” 

This presumptive evidence is not only important here, but is of 
magnified importance to the Hypothesis of a Spherule enveloped by a 
nervous system, because here we find the strong presumption of phy¬ 
siological research pointing to the very locality of Mind that I herein 
labour to establish. 

The beautiful delineations of the Brain now extant, serve to il¬ 
lustrate the fact; and in them we perceive, as in a real subject, that 
the nervous intelligences of all the Senses appear to rally round the 
Third Ventricle , from which contracted locality of the Intellect I de¬ 
rive an important inference, to be mentioned farther on. 

But, to conclude the foregoing physical arguments, the three ob¬ 
jections to the vibratory Theory already considered, are so evident, 
and the last of them so very important, that I think it only re¬ 
quires probability of any other mode of Consciousness to make us 
extremely doubt the Hypothesis ©f cerebral Sensation. 

SECTION IV. BRAIN NOT EMPLOYED IN COMPLEX 
SENSATIONS OR IDEAS. 

As the most complicated scenery must travel along the Optic trunk , 
duly arranged, and Synchronously , it follows, that all its features 
are associated in the trunk , and thus enter the Mind as a complete 


226 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XXIV. 


group or picture. This being the case, there can be no need of the 
whole Medulla of the Brain to perform the duties of elaborating and 
associating these Sensations, which are already elaborated and asso¬ 
ciated in the nervous trunk, and require only to be stamped upon 
the Mind. 

Since then the whole Brain, itself, appears not necessary to Sen¬ 
sation, and, farther, not necessary to the Association of Sensations of 
the most complicated Sense (consequently not necessary to as¬ 
sociate the relicts of these, which are visual Ideas;) I do not see 
how, or why, it should be necessary to associate Ideas of all the 
Senses, especially if other means are probable. 

Independent of this argument, drawn from the known structure 
and operation of the Nerves, I have already argued (in Chapter 
XXIII.) that the principle of Associatio?i is conscious Interest, 
which is a thing merely mental. 

Vibration is a material fact, and many Vibrations may co-exist in 
the Nerves : but such only of them as Interest the Mind will be as¬ 
sociated in Memory. 

8U 'l : " » •' ■ ..' < - . 

SECTION V. THE NERVES FORM SYNCHRONOUS 
DISTINCT IMPULSES. 

There are some other considerations which I may, perhaps, as well 
notice in this place. 

Dr. Hartley says, (Prop. xii. case 1,) “ For if any two, or more 
Vibrations, belong to the same region, since they cannot exist toge¬ 
ther in their distinct forms, A will raise something intermediate be- 


CIIAP. XXIV. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


227 


tween them.” This, I think, would be very probable of Vibrations 
“ that have a liberty of propagating every way over the whole 
Brainand, that the intermediate thing, so raised, would be con¬ 
fusion. 

Now, the process of Vision is a fact directly, and most remarkably, 
in contradiction of the above position. 

It appears a certain fact , that many thousand columns, (or lines,) 
of distinct Vibrations do travel , side by side, along the whole length 
of a Man’s Optic Trunk , without raising any thing between, though 
they notoriously belong to the same region, and this region only the 
diameter of the Optic Nerve. Here each infinitisemal filament trans¬ 
mits its own peculiar Vibration, (which is not jostled by its next 
neighbour,) and all arrive at the Sensorium together. The reason of 
this order, we can hardly doubt, is the internal structure of the Nerve 
into these filaments; but, we must suppose that this sort of filaments, 
or some other filaments, exist in the Brain also : consequently, that, 
even in the Brain these Vibrations, (if they do travel beyond the an¬ 
nular protuberance to give Sensation,) must travel in certain orders , 
and cannot have leave to propagate “ every way.” And, it is only 
by travelling in governed orders that I can suppose confusion to be 
prevented , (as it is prevented,) in the Nerves, respectively , 

In Mons. Lecat’s Essay on the Senses, is a curious estimate of the 
number of luminous rays admissible synchronously in the pupil of 
the eye. In the least wonderful part of this estimate he says, “ For¬ 
asmuch as each Toise of a Plain, containing one hundred millions of 
luminous Motions, corresponds only with a point of my Pupil , fin 


223 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XXIV. 


hundred millions of points of Light must still be found in my Pupil, 
a circle of a line and a half diameter.” 

Here, then, are an hundred millions of columns of Vibrations , each 
column consisting of an hundred millions of lines of Vibrations , (and, 
perhaps, these again may be subdivided,) all of which lines travel along 
the Optic Trunk ; each, I suppose, propagated along a different fila¬ 
ment, whilst the nearest two of these collateral travellers must 
be as independent on each other, as if they were an hundred miles 
apart. 

Strange, then, after evincing this wonderful distinct independence 
strange, indeed, if, (after a lapse of years,) one bundle of these can 
call up all , or great part , of the others; and, still more strange if they 
may be all called up by the Vibration of another and distant Nerve; or, 
equally so by an intellectual associated Affection whose Vibrations 
we cannot , any how, conceive. 

It will hardly be, that the above stated independence of Vibrations 
ceases to exist the instant they have passed from the Nerves into the 
cerebral regions : (which, if so, could produce only confusion) but, if 
this should be thus improbably supposed, it avails nothing , since it is 
probable that Sensations must take place previously to any general 
cerebral diffusion. 

The daily known fact , of numerous synchronous Perceptions by 
means of one trunk of Nerves, must always strongly question the 
agency of Brain ; and of this Dr. Hartley, himself, appears sensible, 
because, although he frequently treats on synchronous Sensations, he 
says, that such Perceptions by Nerves, are “ rather ” successive than 


CHAP XXIV. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


229 


synchronous; and thus seems to question the possibility of the Nerves 
to maintain synchronous Sensations. 

This inference, which Dr. Hartley felt it necessary to risk, (and 
which indeed seems necessary to uphold his Hypothesis,) may 
have led to that opinion which I have combated in Chapter VII.: 
but, besides what I advance there, as unanswerable arguments to 
prove the existence of very numerous synchronous Perceptions, the 
extract from Mons. Lecat, on Vision, amply shows the injustice of 
limiting our Perception, (even of one Sense ,) to one Idea at a time. 

Now, since theOpticTrunkcan, beyond dispute, marshal, and trans¬ 
mit, a numberless group of synchronous Sensations, it must be a very 
easy thing for the Auditory and Gustatory Trunks to manage the few 
that fall within their provinces ; and so of all Nerves whose duties 
are less complicated. 

It hardly need be added, that Ideas being relicts of Sensations , 
the arguments for the latter serve here for the former also. 

SECTION VI. ASSOCIATION IS BY INTEREST, NOT 
BY VIBRATION. 

Not only is Pleasure, or Pain, no real Thing in the Mind, but it is 
no property in the Mind. It is only conscious accident falling upon an 
innate mental capacity , partly as Motion is an accident of Matter. 
But Pleasure, or Pain, is a peculiar accident, that cannot have ex¬ 
istence except in a sensitive Being; whilst the accident of Motion is 
common to both animate, and inanimate creatures. 

Now, as I think I have shown, beyond any doubt, that Pleasure 


230 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XXIV. 


and Pain are the only means of Retention , and of Association , it be¬ 
comes evident that Association is occasioned by an accident which 
cannot exist in Matter; therefore, medullary Vibrations cannot be 
causes of Association. 

Vibrations can be causes only of accidents that can happen to Matter; 
but Pleasure and Pain are accidents that cannot happen to Matter. 

This ground, I apprehend, is so staunch, that, even if we could 
prove that Pleasure and Pain, are accidents possible in matter, it 
'would only follow, that Matter is not what it has been thought, but 
that it is Mind. 

I cannot conceive any argument more decisively satisfactory to 
my own wishes than the last three considerations, to prove, that 
mental Association cannot be an accident of Matter , unless Pleasure 
and Pain, (which produce it,) are also accidents of Matter. 

Now, the proof that I here dwell upon, over and above general 
physical maxims, that Matter of the Brain does not Feel , is, that its 
weakest Vibrations can produce the most violent Pains; and, its strong 
Vibrations may produce no Pain serving to Memory. Also, that 
weakest nervous Action can produce the longest Retention , and the 
strongest intellectual and physical re-action , (if re-action it can be 
called,) many years after a man has witnessed an insulting Vision , 
or heard insulting Sounds. 

We must not here overlook, that the Motion which produces Plea¬ 
sure or Pain, is an accident befalling the Mind, common to both its 
cotiscious and its physical characters ; and, strictly similar Motions 
may be conceived to exist in a material Spherule. Now, if such Mo¬ 
tions could be produced, and we could witness them, all this would 


CIIAP. XXIV. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


231 


show us the precise physical operations of the Mind: but, during 
this, the material Spherule would not Feel any thing , because Plea¬ 
sure, or Pain , is an accident accessible exclusively to Minds; therefore 
no material Spherule can ever associate its own Motions ; on the 
contrary, they would always recur in repetitions uniformly obedient 
to physical Laws, which we know they do not. 

No material Body, or Organ, can be supposed to have apposited, 
or double Affections: it belongs to Minds, exclusively, to feel at the 
same time that they move ; and, it is the Feeling capacity of the 
Mind, (not its Motion,) that occasions Association of Ideas: which is 
very natural, since it is the Feeling capacity of the Mind, ( not its 
Motion ,) that constitutes Sensations themselves. 

Motion occasions all Feelings, but constitutes none; and if it 
could constitute Feelings, then, the internal Motions of a Poker in the 
fire may possibly contain more intelligence than the Mind of him 
who handles it. 

I readily admit, that there may be nothing against the possibility 
that Pleasure, or Pain, might be inherently apposited with the Mo¬ 
tions of the Brain, or of the Poker. But, so long as the weakest 
nervous Vibrations can produce the strongest species of Pleasure, and 
Pain, (which they do in all violent Passions,) also the longest Reten¬ 
sion, and the strongest re-action many years after the weakest vibra¬ 
tory impulses, I must believe, that Pleasure and Pain do not be¬ 
long, essentially, to the Brain. 

These arguments are independent upon an objection to the Brain's 
particular structure, and^ operation: but, to this, I shall add, (in 


232 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XXIV. 


Chapter ‘XXV.) a string of conclusions, as final objections to both 
its Structure , and Operatio?i f that appear altogether satisfactory. 

SECTION VII. BRAIN CANNOT OPERATE AS MIND. 

Leaving the probability of any other Hypothesis out of considera¬ 
tion, it appears unnecessary to wish for any stronger arguments 
against the Hypothesis of cerebral Agency , than the following, here 
recapitulated. 

1. The most complex Pictures are formed in the Nerves them¬ 
selves; consequently, need no agency of the Brain to marshal 
them. 

2. Sensation takes place at the central region where all the Nerves 
meet; therefore the Vibrations do not diffuse over the Brain to 
effect Sensation. 

3. The weakest nervous Vibrations can produce the strongest con¬ 
vulsions of Mind; and may be longer retained in Memory than 
violent mere nervous impulses. 

4. To which I may, perhaps, add the well-known fact, that though 
nervous pressure conveys Sensation , yet, cerebral pressure , on the 
contrary, conveys Stupor , as is proved not only in general compres¬ 
sion, but in particular or partial ones, as in the case of the Parisian 
beggar. 


CHAP. XXIV. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


233 


SECTION VIII. NERVES SUPPORT THE SPHERULE 
HYPOTHESIS. 

Having thus endeavoured to shew, that the known operations of the 
Nerves (strictly taken) appear inconsistent with the doctrine of Vi¬ 
brations, I may here notice, again, the consideration mentioned in 
treating on Vision, in which they seem apparently adapted to the 
Hypothesis of & flexible Spherule Mind . 

Suppose a man viewing an hundred visible large objects, conse¬ 
quently to have an hundred large complex columns of visual Vibrations 
playing Synchronously along the whole length of his Optic Trunk. 

Now, if the Optie Trunk should be divided by a knife, transversely , 
(and if the motions were not interrupted,) I think we may conclude, 
that the end of the Nerve would present a Surface of Undulations, 
however too small for sensible detection. 

This being admitted, then, if the cut end, thus forming an Undu¬ 
lating Surface , were applied in contact with a flexible Spherule, of 
adapted size and susceptibility , we must conceive that it would im¬ 
press such Spherule with motions corresponding to the Undulations of 
the end of the nervous Trunk. 

Thus, (or, at least, on this principle,) do I conceive the Motions of 
the Naves to impress the Spherule Mind, on all sides. Each Sense 
limited to it-s own portion of Surface, with exception, perhaps, to the 
universal Sense of Touch. 


234 


ESSAY ON 


ciiap. xxiv. 


SECTION IX. DOCTRINE OF VIBRATIONS ANNIHI¬ 
LATES MIND. 

If I understand the principles of Dr. Hartley’s Theory, (which, 
indeed, perhaps I do not,) the Brain is supposed to be both Patient 
and Agent. It inflicts, feels, associates, reasons , and acts. And 
herein, though I should doubt my own judgment, I cannot doubt 
that of Dr. Priestley, who has evidently understood the Theory in 
this extent, notwithstanding any protest or supposition of Dr. Hart¬ 
ley, himself, of the contrary. 

But, we need not rigidly take Dr. Hartley’s Theorj r in its utmost 
latitude to find objection, if it is shewn that the Brain really does not 
perform even so much as the physical Motions therein attributed to 
it, much less feel those Motions. 

And, still less need we dwell thereon, if another Structure can be 
shewn, on which such Motions are inflicted, and consciously felt. 

All those, however, who cannot agree to the evidences, and argu¬ 
ments, adduced throughout this inquiry ; if they, on the contrary, 
adopt the doctrine of Vibrations, they may, with equal justice, adopt 
the inference which the acute discernment of Dr. Priestley has, I 
think, fairly drawn. And it amounts to this, that there is no such 
Reality as Human Mind. 

This inference involves another and most dismal one; which is, 
that Man is a mere Ephemera, no one living longer than a day ; and 
the man who sleeps, though he may be changed, never wakes the 
same identical conscious Being. 


CIIAP. XXIV. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


235 


I think the Immaterialist has no alternative, but to adopt the Idea 
of an extended Mind, or to suffer the Hypothesis here opposed. 

At any rate, the conception of an extended immaterial Mind is not 
a singular conception. I only assert it, by pointing, definitively , to 
that which some of the most enlightened men must have admitted , as 
it is a necessary property of Extension ; that is ,figure. And, as Philo¬ 
sophers, they never could have shrunk from the Idea of figure , after 
having adopted that of Extension , or the locality of Mind. 


236 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XXV. 


CHAPTER XXV. 

■ . M . 


OF THE RADICAL OPPOSITION OF THE SPHERULE AND VIBRATORY 
HYPOTHESES. 


SECTION I. VIBRATIONS IN A SUBSTANCE FORM 
UNDULATIONS ON ITS SURFACE. 

There is some similitude betwixt Vibrations and Undulations , be¬ 
cause collateral finite lines of unequal Vibrations , must terminate in 
a Surface of Undulations . 

Thus, I have already argued, that if we cut any nervous Trunk, 
across, at any point of its length, whilst it is conveying a complex Sen¬ 
sation, then, either of the divided ends, (if they could be examined,) 
would, most probably, present a Surface of Undulations. 

This, however, does not enable the vibratory and spherule Hypo¬ 
theses to approach each other in the least degree: and, no two modes 
of Operation can demand more opposite physical structures of Mind 
than sensitive Vibration . and sensitive Undulation. 






CHAP. XXV. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


237 


SECTION II. MIND RECIPROCATES BY UNDULA¬ 
TIONS OF ITS SURFACE. 

The present Hypothesis of a Spherule Mind ,, and its consequent 
scheme of mental Undulations , amount, ultimately, to the following 
conclusions ; which seem to be countenanced by the opinions of mo¬ 
dem physiologists. 

1. That a Human Mind operates by a Surface. 

2. That a Human Brain operates by a Center. 

3. That if it could be proved that the Brain operates by its whole 
proper Substance, this would not in the least enable it to operate as 
Mind. 

4. That unless it could be proved that the Brain operates by its 
Surface (which cannot be imagined) it cannot possibly operate as 
Mind. 

5. That if (for the sake of argument) the Brain be supposed to 
operate by its Surface , it would be farther necessary to suppose it to 
be enveloped in a nervous system, operating upon all parts of its Sur¬ 
face; which is known to be contrary to fact. 

6. That Mind; and Brain, are distinct, extended. Realities; though 
we cannot prove whether they are of different sorts of Substance. 

7. That it does not appear to affect the ultimate hope of Man whe¬ 
ther the Substance of Matter and of Mind be one, or divers, so 
long as Mind naturally inheres any Substance, unchangeably, and 
not to be exploded, unless by particular decree of its Creator. 

S. That we have no proof that Matter is any thing solid; and it 


233 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XXV. 


may be only the Will of the Deity to affect finite Minds in certain 
modes, agreeably to certain laws. 

SECTION III. CONTRAST OF HYPOTHESES. 

The foregoing, I believe, contains a fair statement of the amount 
and probabilities of the Vibratory and Spherule Hypotheses. 

With regard to the former, it cannot escape remark, that if, ( con¬ 
trary to apparent facts?) medullary Vibrations do pass beyond the 
central region, and diffuse over the whole Brain to give Sensations, 
it is not conceivable how distinctness of many synchronous Sensations, 
or their relicts, can be preserved. This consideration did not 
escape the learned Author of the Vibratory Theory; who, therefore, 
inclined to suppose, tliat what he calls synchronous Affections, were, 
rather, instantaneously successive. 

But the undoubted existence of numerous synchronous Sensations 
of Vision alone, is sufficient, without the Actions of all the other 
Senses, and of Intellect, to refute this last supposition. 

The fact that millions of points of Light ; (or, in other words, a 
complete Picture, or Landscape,) enter the Pupil of the Eye, and play 
on the Retina, ready formed; is, of itself, sufficient to prove, that 
Vibrations need not diffuse over the Brain to form the most complex 
synchronous Sensations. 

On the other hand, with regard to the Hypothesis of Undulations , 
it, at least, appears not only possible, but physically natural , that 
Sensations can be conveyed, distinctly, by Motions which form distinct 
Undulations : and, that the number of distinct synchronous Sensations, 


CHAP. XXV. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


#39 


and the rapidity of their possible succession , should be proportioned 
to the physical sizes of the Undulations , and the times they must 
naturally take to rise and fall. Now, each of the Five external Senses 
decisively give their evidence to this Hypothesis ; displaying, exactly, 
that relative capacity for number , and rapidity , of distinct Sensa¬ 
tions, that is proportioned to the known physical gravity of the par¬ 
ticles of matter which occasion them. 

In the Theory of Vibrations, we do not find the Senses arranged 
in any regular order of relative conscious and physical strength; 
nor any reason assigned why the conscious capacity of the Senses 
should agree with the physical occasions of Sensations, as to number 
of synchronous Sensations, and rapidity of their possible succession. 
Yet, these important facts are very striking points in the operations 
of Consciousness; and are accounted for, naturally, by the analogy 
of aqueous, or other physical Undulations. 

I do not think it necessary to extend the contrast here, it being 
perfectlv evident, that if the Hypothesis of Undulations possesses 
probability, the Mind must operate by a Surface : which does away 
cerebral Agency. 

Now, the Hypothesis of a Spherule, and that of Undulations, rest 
for support upon physical analogy ; and I submit their claims to this 
test. 


240 


ESSAY ON 


CIIAP. XXVI. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


OF THE INSTRUMENTALITY OF THE BRAIN. 


SECTION I. PRESSURE ON BRAIN DOES NOT GIVE, 
BUT DESTROYS CONSCIOUSNESS. 

The subject I am now to enter upon is ©ut of my province, and 
nothing less than its appearing necessary could induce me to risk 
conjectures, where even the best informed cannot conjecture with 
confidence. 

In so doing, however, I formally demand, that no one may attri¬ 
bute to me any conclusion , in treating on the Brain, except this, That 
the Spherule Mind does occupy that, or near that region , which I 
shall herein assign. All the other suggestions are to be considered 
as mere questions. 

The Medullary Substance of the Brain is so closely attached 
to life; and thinking so certainly depends upon the action of 
this Organ, that from general, and almost invariable, experience, 
many are led to suppose, that Mind and Brain cannot be separated. 

But, besides the many weighty arguments to prove this a very 






CHAP. XXVI. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


241 


inadequate view of the subject; there are particular facts of the Brain 
itself, that go to contradict general experience, and give rise to doubt 
of the conclusion we misdit otherwise incline to draw. 

It has been said, that nearly the whole medulla of the Brain has 
been injured without affecting the Mind ; and, in other cases, it ap¬ 
pears probable , as hinted by Dr. Hartley himself, that part of the 
Medulla has been discharged. Which, if such facts can be proved, 
they should induce us, at least, to look farther. 

To these I shall venture to add a consideration which I think of 
some weight. This is the different, and even opposite, conscious ef¬ 
fects produced by physical action upon Brain, from those of phy¬ 
sical action upon Nerves. 

If we press the end of a finger against any part of the body, it will 
produce Sensation; and the more we increase the pressure, the more 
we increase the Sensation. 

But, if we press the surface of the Brain , by the finger in the 
very same way, we shall, at first, produce a tendency to stupor; and, 
as we increase the pressure, we shall increase the stupor to total in¬ 
sensibility. 

This, if I mistake not, was tne case of the Parisian beggar. And 
from general experience it appears, that general pressure of the sur¬ 
face of the Brain produces similar effects. 

In fact, I here suppose no effectual difference between the pres¬ 
sure induced by a large surface, and that produced by the finger; 
for I suppose this last also occasions a general tendency to contiguity 
of the Medullary filaments; to which approximation of parts I will at¬ 
tribute the decrease of sensibility, because I believe a probe introduced 


2 42 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XXVI. 


(without producing such general depression) produces acute Sensa¬ 
tion, which increases as we advance to the central region. 

If this can be supposed, it becomes a question whether lessened 
Sensibility is an immediate consequence of the compression of fila¬ 
ments, or, whether such approximation produces insensibility bypre- 
venting the passage of some subtle matter along these filaments to¬ 
ward the Ventricles of the Brain. 

Here, I leave, these queries, reluctant to pursue them to a more vi¬ 
sionary length, and shall turn myself to consider the internal struc¬ 
ture of the Brain , in the cavities of which, some fine Matter may 
possibly be deposited, if these cavities are ever distended in any 
degree. 

SECTION II. THE NERVES UNITE AT A CENTRAL 
CAVITY IN THE BRAIN. 

It would appear from inspection of the Brain, that the Nerves 
unite in a very remarkable arrangement round the Third Ventri¬ 
cle , which, if it were distended , would form a Cavity. The Optic 
Nerves are immersed, or originate, in capacious beds, which form 
the two sides of this Ventricle , whilst all the assemblage of other 
Nerves meet in the annular protuberance; and this protuberance 
itself, terminates at the inferior Surface of the said Third Ven¬ 
tricle. 

When I fell upon the Hypothesis of a Spherule Mind, and the 
consequent scheme of Undulations, I certainly had no thought con¬ 
cerning the Brain, or its arrangements. But I cannot well imagine 


CHAP. XXVI. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


243 


any structure more apparently favourable for the purpose than the 
existing structure of the Brain itself; and being thus far advanced 
in the regions of imagination, I will now suppose the Spherule Mind 
established in the Third Ventricle; and there surrounded by Ele¬ 
mentary Matter, which, I will suppose, has passed through the in¬ 
numerable convolving medullary vessels of the Brain. 

If this be supposed, then nothing appears wanting to enable the 
Mind to operate : and Motion becomes the occasion. 

The requisite Motion will be supplied by the Nerves , upon the ex¬ 
terior of the volume of Elementary Matter ; and the internal Motion 
of this Elementary Matter will be more, or less, vigorous , as this said 
Matter is more, or less, dense. 

Farther, the Elementary Matter will be more or less, dense as the 
Vessels of the whole Brain have secreted it into the Ventricle in 
greater , or less , quantity ; or, as its channels of exhaustion are more , 
or less , obstructed. 

SECTION III. DISPOSITION OF THE NERVES 
FAVOUR THE HYPOTHESIS. 

I have, in another place, supposed, that all the Senses do not play 
intermixed upon the same portion of mental Surface ; but that each 
Sense probably operates upon a distinct portion of surface, excepting 
only the Sense of Touch , or gross Feel, whose province extends 
to all. 

The chief reason for supposing that each sense occupies a sepa¬ 
rate portion is, that otherwise, the Undulations of two distinct 


244 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XXVI. 


Senses, if they were nearly of a size, might tend to confuse each 
other; whilst from the analogy of Rain upon ruffled Water, it is 
very obvious, that minute Undulations may play, undisturbed, on 
the bosoms of large ones, without confusing with them. 

Thus it appears natural, that Undulations of Vision may play 
upon the bosoms of Undulations of Touch ; but, if Undulations of 
Vision existed mixed with Undulations of Hear, though the dif¬ 
ference in size may still be considerable ; yet, we may suppose they 
would confound each other. 

Now, to countenance such supposition, it is very remarkable, that 
the Optic Nerves stand so, as probably to discharge their impulses 
upon the region of the Third Ventricle opposite to that which receives 
impulses from the Auditory Nerves; and, if we suppose a Spherule 
Percipient existing in the Third Ventricle: or, even in the Pineal 
Gland, it would appear, from this disposition, that the impulses of 
Hear must strike the Percipient on the opposite side to that which 
receives the impulses of Vision. 

Whether such disposition of the Nerves is really to avoid the mix¬ 
ture, and confusion, that I have supposed, is very questionable: but 
no arrangement can appear more agreeable to what the Hypothesis 
seems to demand ; though, when the consideration first struck me, I 
had no thought of the disposition of the Nerves, as relating to this 
point. 


CHAP. XXVI. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


245 


SECTION IV. SEAT OF INTELLECT IS WHERE THE 
NERVES UNITE. 

It is, I believe, not supposed that the Ventricles of the Brain are 
naturally distended ; but, unless this can be proved, it might be con¬ 
jectured not probable that they were formed into cavities, without 
some occasions of distension. 

I think it makes in favour of the Spherule Hypothesis, that Mons. 
Richerand, along with Soemmering, “ believes that the ultimate extre- 
mities of the Nerves, of Smell, Sight, Hearing, and Taste, are mois¬ 
tened by the serocity of the parietes of the Ventricles.” 

And, still farther favourable: “ That the cerebral extremities of 
Nerves all unite in one determined point, in the cerebral organ; and 
to this central point, which seems to be the annular protuberance, 
all Sensations are earned, while all determinations are given from 
it.” 

• I have repeated this passage because it appears so very requisite 
in this place; and because, in judging the Spherule Hypothesis, it is 
of great importance to keep this admitted fact in view. 

SECTION V. HYPOTHESIS OF AN ELEMENTARY 
BODY. 

The proper office of the Brain , it is not for me to speculate 
upon. 


246 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XXVI. 


That it has a vibratory office, I suppose probable, in common 
with the Nerves; but, if it has not a secretory office, and only 
operates, merely , by Vibration , then I should suppose, the more 
we press it, in any way, the stronger it must vibrate : and, the 
stronger must be the Feeling from this Vibration, which is contrary 
to facts. 

But, if, in reality, it secretes an Elementary Matter, necessary to 
stimulate the Mind, then any partial pressure of the Brains surface, 
which causes a general compression of its substance , must tend to 
bring the sides of the fine vessels in contact, and so obstruct the se¬ 
cretion of this Elementary Matter. 

The more this secretion is lessened , the more attenuate will be the 
Matter which is deposited in the Third Ventricle (to envelope the 
Mind, and move its Surface ;) consequently the weaker will be the 
effect of all nervous impulses upon it. And if there should be little 
or no Elementary Matter, round the Mind, then there can be little 
or no means of strong Sensation. 

In this way it may be, that all nervous pressures inflict Sensations 
through the Elementary Matter; whilst all pressures upon the Brain 
lessen, and at length prevent. Sensation, by preventing the secretion 
of Elementary Matter into the Ventricle, by which means this Mat¬ 
ter becomes too attenuate to convey to the Mind Vibrations of suf¬ 
ficient strength. 

Upon the foregoing suppositions it is natural enough to conjec¬ 
ture, that the lateral Ventricles of the Brain serve as Magazines of 
supply of Elementary Matter to the Third Ventricle ; and that any 


CHAP. XXVI. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


247 


external shock on the Brain which should occasion the communica- 
tion between the Ventricles to close, must have an instant effect upon 
Sensation in general. 

I might easily pursue this visionary reasoning through the various 
phenomena of Sensibility, and Insensibility; but enough has been 
said for my purpose. 

It is, however, evident, that every change from mirth, down to 
melancholy , and from calm reason to phrenzy, might (possibly,) be 
accounted for, from the fluctuations of such secretion co-operating 
with variety in Vibrations ; that is, if the said Matter, and its secre¬ 
tion, could be proved tQjexist. 

SECTION V. AN ELEMENTARY BODY WHY RE¬ 
QUISITE. 

Finite Extension must have figure, and figure must have size. It 
may then be asked, in the Hypothesis of a Spherule Mind, what size 
can it possess ? 

The size, and motions of Microscopic Animals, is, perhaps, the best 
sensible help toward conjecture of possibilities; for therein we at least 
perceive, that a Spherule animal far too small for naked Vision, con¬ 
tains sufficient Surface, and flexibility, to perform, on a very gross scale, 
all that appears requisite. And, we may, in some degree, farther guess, 
how very small a Surface would serve, on reflecting that many millions 
of rays of Light can enter the Eye through a pin hole. This alone 
shews the possibility, that the Mind may be a particle almost incon- 
teivably minute. 


248 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XXVI. 


It is from this supposed 'minuteness of the Mind that I have also 
supposed the Elementary Body to be necessary, inasmuch as, that 
the Mind being so minute, could not receive tne extremities of 
the Nerves. It therefore becomes necessary that their impulses 
should be conveyed (and perhaps refracted ,) so as to strike co-inci¬ 
dent ly upon the Percipient; whilst, also, this apparent necessity for the 
Elementary Matter gives important office to the Brain: and, is ample 
reason why all thinking will consequently depend upon its Action. 

If this minuteness of the Mind be supposed; a complex Vision formea 
in the Optic Trunk, will, instead of diff using over the Brain, be con¬ 
tracted to a far smaller scale before it can be stampt upon the Mind. 

It has been objected, by Philosophers, upon the supposition of an 
extended Mind, that it must be either a physical point; and,there¬ 
fore, too small to be posssibly capable of receiving the delineations of 
material impressions; or, must consist of many such points, which 
would destroy the unity of Perception, and of the Percipient. 

The force of this objection, I confess, I am unable to see; and es¬ 
pecially^ think it cannot be urged by any who, with Newton and 
Locke, hold the atomical Hypothesis. 

Newton, and his followers, suppose Matter to consist of atoms 
having Extension. And these, however small, are doubtless, con- 
ceivabty infinitely divisible: but, there is no reason why they must be 
actually infinitely discerptible; or, that they consist of distinct 
parts. 

Now, if it be possible to create a single particle of Matter, with 
any Extension, however small; I cannot conceive any thing against 


CHAP. XXVI. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


249 


the possibility of creating a single particle, with any Extension, however 
large. And, notwithstanding the confessed extensive actual divisi¬ 
bility of Matter, I think it must follow, that if there be in existence 
such a thing as a particle or unit; then, there is nothing against 
the possibility that single particles of substance may vary in size. 
The unity of a particle can have no necessary dependence upon its 
size; because, let a single atom of it be as small as we will, if it has 
size at all , that size might possibly have been less. 

SECTION VII. THE PINEAL GLAND. 

The Hypothesis of a Spherule Mind, established in the third Ven¬ 
tricle of the Brain, recals to notice that celebrated spot, which a 
great Philosopher once assigned as the abode of the Soul. It may, 
therefore, be consistent in the present Hypothesis, though arising 
from a very different view, to inquire how far the Pineal Gland has 
any claim to be supposed the possible seat of Intellect, on the sup¬ 
position that Intellect is a Spherule. 

So far as regards the locality of this Gland, and the disposition of 
the Nerves in regard of it, there, perhaps, appears nothing against 
the possibility of its fitness ; but this, if supposed, gives rise to con¬ 
siderable difficulties, the discussion of which, would lead to specula¬ 
tions -which I do not wish here to meddle with: and shall, therefore, 
leave the Hypothesis, in this respect, as it stands. 

There are reasons, which, perhaps, duly considered, might lead to 
prefer the Pineal Gland to the third Ventricle, as the possible seat 

K k 


250 


ESSAY ON 


CIIAP. XXVI. 


of a Spherule Intellect; but it is not necessary, here, to do more than 
suggest the seeming possibility in favour of either . 

The whole that has been advanced, throughout, demands no 
more than, that the Mind shall operate by a. flexible convex Surface , 
enveloping some expansive Power. I leave it for others to assign its 
more particular size, and locality. 


ciiap. xxvii. HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


251 


CHAPTER XXVII. 


ON DREAM AND REVERIE. 


SECION I. ABSENCE OF SENSATION MAKES IDEAS 
VIVID. 

Upon the Hypothesis of a Spherule Mind which receives external 
impressions from Motions or Undulations of Surface , it is obvious 
how all undue Affections of the Nerves, and Brain, (including the 
supposed Elementary Matter,) must affect, alter, impede, or even 
wholly stop, the internal Motions of the Mind, by altering, or op¬ 
pressing, the mental Surface. 

Upon this principle, we may probably account for insanity of all 
kinds; for hypochondriacal Affections ; for fluctuations in Memory ; 
and, for the occasions of dreams. 

The nature of Dreams has been considered amongst the most 
occult of all mental Operations ; though, in many respects, it seems 
to differ very little from Reverie, of which we might hope to have 
some better acquaintance, inasmuch as in this last state we are 
awake, and can reduce the question to narrower bounds. 






252 


ESSAY ON 


CIIAP. XXVII. 


In both cases alike, we are deprived of the three grand aids: 
general Sensation; general Memory; and, active locomotive Power. 

A scene presents: we become sufferers, and actors, in Mind; and 
believe all real. Next, we are carried along with various changes ; 
during all which, however, the Mind attends to nothing but the 
scenes which delude it. 

The usual difference herein between Dream and Reverie is, that in 
the former the restraint is greater, the appearances seem more vivid , 
and the deception more deep ; but, there are some cases of Reverie 
wherein this distinction, perhaps, altogether fails; and the objects 
therein seem realities, as they do in Dreams. 

Here, one of the first questions that arises, is, as to the means by 
which mere Ideas, during sleep, impress us with the conscious vivid¬ 
ness of Sensations. And, upon consideration, I think such deception 
may be accounted for, with probability at least. 

Strong and weak, vivid and faint, are comparative terms; and, 
vividness, and faintness, manifest themselves to be what they seem, 
partly by means of comparison, or the want of it; besides which, 
the Law of Interest shows, that the occupancy of a stronger Interest 
prevents our having a Feeling, (or, at least, so deep a Feeling,) of a 
synchronous weaker Interest. 

There is not, perhaps, more difference between the vividness of a 
Picture seen , and the same quickly remembered , than there is be¬ 
tween the apparent lustre of the Moon during a fine night, and 
its lustre on a fine day. Now, we know the Moon appears with dimi¬ 
nished lustre in the day time, only because it shines upon us 


CIIAP. XXVII. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


2o3 


synchronously with the transcenclant lustre of the Sun. So I 
think it must be with Ideas seen during sleep, when propei Sensa¬ 
tions are absent, and, in the general darkness, these Ideas shine with 
a sole lustre. 

Looking at a scene, and then remembering it, is very analogous 
to looking at the Heavens during a fine night, and then during the 
day. In this last case, we see none of the Stars which we saw at 
night; which loss may be compared to the loss of minute features 
of a scene remembered: yet, we see the Moon which we saw at night; 
but, so dull, that it seems only the Idea of itself. 

In Reverie, we know, it is in part the same. General Sensation is 
then excluded by the Law of Interest , because Interest is always the 
occasion of Reverie. 

When the Mind is very little occupied, by either Sensations, or 
particular pursuits, we fall into Reverie. 

A scene presents, and we are carried along, just as we might be 
by a fascinating romance that takes no denial until we get to the 
end. It matters not though the Reverie be as changeable, impro¬ 
bable, or impossible, as any thing in fashionable conceit; it hurries us, 
by irresistible spell, until some foreign shock breaks the enchant¬ 
ment. 

During this process, however, besides some low Sense of vigilance, 
as our Eyes are open , there is a vague Sense of Light, (though not of 
definitive objects,) owing to which we find, that Visual Ideas in Re¬ 
verie, are not so vivid as in Dreams, except in rare cases. 


254 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XXVIf. 


But, as a proof that they may be so when Vision is obstructed, 
we find in Reveries which some times visit us during darkness, that 
visual Ideas have the vividness of reality, even when the Intellect 
is perfectly in order, and conscious of vigilance. 

The same also has, in extreme cases , happened to persons in day¬ 
light, although they laboured under no derangement of Intellect. 

SECTION II. LOSS OF MEMORY OCCASIONS INCON¬ 
SISTENCY IN DREAMS. 

In Dream, as in deep Reverie, the general fact is, that Imagina¬ 
tion seems reality. 

The greatest difference in this process, perhaps, is, that Reveries, 
however various, and perhaps improbable, usually go on in a conca¬ 
tenation of Ideas: whereas, in Dreams the circumstances are not 
only, in most cases, preposterous, or inconsistent; but, every now 
and then the scene is changed upon us : and, forgetting the past, 
we become sufferers, and actors, in a new play. 

The reason of concatenation in Reverie is obvious, because Interest 
occasions us to attend, exclusively ; and we follow the subject so long 
as Imagination is suffered to supply the train of Ideas ; that is, until 
some foreign impulse intercepts the process. 

In Dreams, on the contrary, we are called to attend to some partial 
external shock, whilst the general play of Sensations, and Ideas, 
is impeded or stopt. And, after a short desultory attack of this 
kind, the shock ceases, or, perhaps, is immediately replaced by a 


ciiap. xxvii. HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


255 


different sort of external stimulus. All which I suppose to proceed 
from nervous Motions , excited by irregularities of thfe Body. 

Here, however, I do not mean that the Body supplies trains of ready 
formed Ideas , but only, that its impulses partially rouse the Intellect; 
which last will (besides some Ideas of Memory,) be impressed by 
other Ideas , of the complexion of the bodily health as to being good 
or bad , painful or pleasant. 

In the account usually given of Dreaming, I believe the principal 
fact is supposed to consist in our being therein deprived of Volition; 
which, doubtless, is one of the prominent considerations in ordinary 
Dreams. 

But, there is a circumstance, which I think of more importance 
toward accounting for the inconsistency , and other phenomena, of 
Dreams; which is the fact , that in such cases Memory is either 
greatly impeded , or, in some instances nearly cut off. 

In by far the greater number of Dreams, we find ourselves reason¬ 
ing, and ideally acting, (though in a limited view,) just as we 
would do if awake. In the midst of which, the scene is suddenly 
changed upon us ; and we are confined to the new appearances. 

Thus, we converse with a friend whom we know to be dead , and 
forget that it is impossible : and, have an interview with another 
friend, forgetting to feel any exception that he is more like some 
other person than himself. 

At other times we have so much partial Memory as to inform us 
that such things are wrong; and we question the inconsistencies be¬ 
fore us: when, in the midst of this rational process, the scene 


256 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XXVII. 


changes again, and, forgetting the Dream just gone by, we com¬ 
mence a new adventure. 

As an evidence that it is the contraction, the frequent interrup¬ 
tion, the general cloy, or stoppage of Memory, (or rather of Feeling 
in general,) that produces inconsistency and disjunction; we find, that 
upon waking after several Dreams, we can, by the aid of general 
Feeling and Association, (thus restored,) recollect the principal fea¬ 
tures of our disjointed ideal adventures. 

Persons whose health subjects them to frequent, or continual 
dreaming, are so habituated to those changes, that very few of them 
are circumstantially remarked after waking. But, it may be ob¬ 
served, that Dreams kept up by disease, or irregularities of the 
bodily functions, are generally far more preposterous, inconsistent, 
and disjointed, than Dreams which follow intellectual Affections: 
which facts support the arguments here advanced. 

It has been justly remarked, that without Memory we could have 
no Idea of Time: to which I would add, that without Memory we 
can have no knowledge of the past, whatever. 

Without Memory, a mother could not know her child from the 
pillow it lies on ; though she could see it as well without Memory 
as with it. It is remembrance alone that informs her, that the visual 
object before her is a child ; and her own child. 

Considering, then, how impossible it would be to carry on think¬ 
ing, and reasoning, during vigilance, if Memory were any how 
interrupted, or considerably impeded; and, supposing Dreams to 
be occasioned by irregular attacks of nervous partial stimulous 
upon the Mind, at a time when the mental Surface is so op- 


chap, xxvii. HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


257 


interrupted, or considerably impeded; and, supposing Dreams to 
be occasioned by irregular attacks of nervous partial impulse 
upon the Mind, at a time when the mental Surface is so op¬ 
pressed, or generally bounded , by Matter, as to prevent its general 
Motion; may we not suppose, that the interruption, or clog, thus 
given to Memory, is the occasion of the incoherence, and inconsis¬ 
tency, found in Dreams ? 

If the facts be rigidly examined, I believe it will be found, that in 
Dreams, when we seem to act in any way which on waking we 
deem to be unaccountable, or improper, the occasion that leads to 
such act is an interruption, more or less, of Memory. And, that 
what we suffer may be traced to the Body in such innumerable in¬ 
stances, as leave little doubt that it always begins the process. 

These facts agree with the opinion that Mind cannot act without 
the stimulus of Body ; for, if the Mind is completely at rest in sound 
sleep, (as we must believe it is in some cases of insensibility,) then, 
it cannot move again until Nerve first stimulate; and, if it could 
move alone, it might think without a Body ; which I believe is what 
scarce any Philosopher will now admit. 

Upon the whole I think, that either interruption, or total stop, of 
Memory, including all degrees of impediment, (according as the Sur¬ 
face of the Mind, in general, is clogged during sleep,) is the occa¬ 
sion of inconsistency, and incoherence, in ordinary Dreams. And, 
upon the Hypothesis of a Spherule, it appears how Memory, and 
other Feelings, should be clogged, or partially permitted, and parti¬ 
ally stopt, by an Elementary Matter enveloping the Mind, and pre¬ 
venting the general free Motions of its Surface during sleep. t 

L 1 J 


258 


chap, xxvir. 


ESSAY ON 

m garpis : ftHdVl 10 

SECTION III. DREAMS RISE FROM NERVOUS 
IMPULSES. 

It is certainly true, tliat a day passed under great anxiety of 
Mind, is as likely to produce a correspondent Dream, as a night 
passed under mere bodily derangement: perhaps more so. 

If when the Mind is once at rest, it cannot more until Nerve 
stimulates again, how then comes a Dream to be produced by an 
occasion merely intellectual ? 

To account for this it may be observed, that all anxiety, and in¬ 
tellectual Passions whatever, have very powerful effects upon the 
Body ; altering the processes of circulation, secretion, and digestion; 
and producing considerable changes on general health. This is so 
much more the case with a person whose nervous system has been 
at all shook, that a violent Passion of any sort generally produees 
immediate, and considerable, bodily derangement. 

This influence of the Mind upon the Body being matter of fact, it may 
well follow, that in the night succeeding to a day whereon a person 
has suffered much from anxiety, or any Passion, the nervous system 
will be put into a state extremely liable to inflict irregular impulses 
upon the Mind, during sleep: and, when any throb of Nerve is 
strong enough to rouse the Mind to partial Consciousness, then the 
deep Feelings of the preceding day will revive in partial Memory; 
and, general Memory being prevented, the Intellect may cherish 
this deep Interest for a time, with some consistency. 

Here we must suppose the Intellect to be struggling under the 


chap, xxvii. HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


259 


vast disadvantage of interrupted , or confused , Memory ; varying in 
degree, and manner, as the Surface of Mind is more or less generally 
oppressed. And, whilst the Mind is moved by this disjointed Me¬ 
mory of its own internal past Feelings, it may be suffering conside¬ 
rably from the irregular bodily impulses; because Dreams, in ge¬ 
neral, are known to take the complexion of, and are even an index 
of, the state of Health. In this way, varieties of new and foreign 
scenes, or Ideas, may be thrust in amongst the old ones; and, by 
these means, we may conceive every possible confusion, and disjunc¬ 
tion, that is really found to exist in Dreams. 

Thus, though the Mind itself cannot be supposed to begin a Dream 
from sound sleep; yet, when once begun by nervous impulse, the 
Mind may assist to carry it on, and vary it into all possible experi¬ 
enced modes: which agrees with Prop. 3. Sect. V. of Chap. VIII. 

The subject of Dreaming must be confessed extremely dark. All 
that I have had in view concerning it here, was to state some few of 
the general facts, particularly the loss of Memory , as conceiving it 
more important, or, rather, more the rigid fact that takes place, than 
loss of Volition ; because, strictly considered, we therein do not lose 
Volition, but only locomotive Power : and sometimes the Volitions 
in a Dream are so strong, that we actually perform the Motions 
which we will to perform, as well as if we had been awake. 

By some of the earliest inquirers, the Mind of a Man in his Body; 
has been compared to a person in a Cave, with his back to the light; 
perceiving the shadows of others passing its mouth. Now, in some¬ 
what a different way, I think, the Mind of a Man, during sleep , 


260 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XXVII. 


may, not unaptly, be likened to one in a totally dark Cavern , who, 
when he dreams, perceives, in the general darkness, a light and some 
few Figures, in one particular quarter, which soon disappear, and are 
succeeded by others, of quite a different sort, which suddenly appear 
in another quarter. And, in sad truth, to extend the simile, when 
he wakes he is still in the Cavern ; but, only, it is much more enlight¬ 
ened by the presence of general Sensation, and general Memory. 

This fact, therefore, of the loss of Memory, and such others as are 
here advanced, I have applied to the Hypothesis of a Spherule Mind, 
in order to account for the manner of Dreams; and, whilst it is the 
most important fact of the whole, it appears highly favourable to the 
Spherule Hypothesis, and, to the account given of the physical pro¬ 
cess of Memory, wherein I have supposed that not only all Ideas , 
but all Notions , also, are accompanied by Motions in the Mind’s 
Surface: and, that when its Surface is generally compressed, or, by 
any means kept equal , so far, general Feeling must be stopt, and 
partial Feelings, either of Sensation or Memory , must happen from 
partial Motions, during a general compression. 

The various considerations that occur in regard of Dreams, are, 
perhaps, no less numerous than those of vigilant consciousness ; and, 
until we are better acquainted with the nature of our waking thoughts, 
it may be a vain search to inquire after that of our sleeping ones, 
especially since the operation of Reverie, duly considered, is perhaps 
more mysterious, if possible, than that of dreaming. 

In frequent instances of Reverie, though we are fully satisfied of 
not being asleep, the Ideas that pass in review are as vivid as if 


chap, xxvin. HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


261 


real; and we ideally suffer, and act, in scenes a thousand miles from 
where we really are, or perhaps assist ideally in a drama that was 
actually rehearsed twenty years ago. 

The chief difference is, that in these waking dreams, I think, we 
always act in our own characters, owing, I suppose, to our having 
the benefit of so much Memory as is necessary to sustain character; 
whilst in sleeping Dreams, owing to the Mind being more generally, 
and more heavily, equalised by exterior compression, the loss of the 
recollections of what is right leaves us often to act with impropriety 


262 


ESSAY ON 


CHAT. XXVIII. 


f • suitttvialff ifd hfig.vd i s i f&tr rrioAi 

*it;frrtrii ifoiW <>k ui- wtmniYtm jrtir ' 'v ^iri Hi Saiotf 

' 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 


THE CONCLUSION. 

Oth l -v.v.w . • • • .tv: >j. . i j .... .iiv-* *■ * tt 

. . — . .. . 


SECTION. I. 

In the foregoing inquiry there are two distinct main considerations. 
These are, conscious Operations , and a physical Hypothesis applied to 
them. 

I have now put forth so much of the subject as appears absolutely 
necessary for its trial, without presuming to enlarge unnecessarily, 
and have doubtless sinned deep in novelty of opinion. 

The result is obvious. It must suffer animadversion ; and, I may 
deem myself fortunate if that be dealt, by all, with candour and con¬ 
siderate allowance. 

It will appear, that whatever may be faulty, my offence does not 
consist in having affected to feel differently from other men. I have 
done no more than mark the modes and Successions of Feeling, in a 
manner that has not been done by others. 

My opinion of the accession of all Knowledge differs in nothing 






CHAP. XXVIII. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


263 


from that held by Locke, and by Helvetius; who, in this particular 
point, stand as high with me as any names can do. With them, as 
with me, all Knowledge is Feeling; and, to suppose, that in the Per¬ 
cipient we have one Faculty which occasions one species of Feeling ; 
and another Faculty which occasions another, appears to me nothing 
short of supposing a sole Being to be a diversity of Beings. 

This is more especially the case as I hold, that the Feeling of the 
Mind has nothing to do with the Mind being a Faculty . I can 
easily conceive the Mind might have had the property of susceptibi¬ 
lity on impulse, (and thereby Feel,) without any Power to Act. Con¬ 
sequently, to say that Mind has Sensation from one Faculty, Memory 
from a second, Understanding from a third, and so on, is the same as 
to say, that Wax has a Faculty to be made soft , and another Facidty 
to be made white , and so on. 

The Mind I consider as a Faculty in its Action , whether of 
Thought, or Body. With regard to the latter, it has a locomotive 
Faculty, (properly speaking;) but, I would not say that to run, hop, 
jump, and slide, were the exercises of different Faculties ; nor, that 
when a child has learnt any of these modes, it was by the exertion of 
a ?iezv or particular Faculty. I hold all these to be so many different 
Modes of using one locomotive Faculty: and, so I hold all Know¬ 
ledge, or Feeling, to be divided into Six grand modes of susceptibility ; 
and these, I think, are necessarily first occasioned in the order which 
I have ventured to assign in Chapter IV. 

All this, however, I advance with every proper respect for those 
who support opposite opinions. 


264 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XXVIII. 


If the Order in the accession of Feelings, the Operations of synchro¬ 
nous Perceptions, the processes of Pleasure and Pain , of Sensation, of 
Memory, and, of the Law of Interest, are considerations different 
from what others have remarked, and however they may appear 
to fit the Hypothesis of a Spherule, they are, at least, such as 
Feeling dictated . I cannot be more satisfied of any thing than that 
herein 1 have endeavoured to follow the truth of Nature, without 
bias ; and, it is for others to pass judgment on the result. 

As to the value of the Hypothesis, however apparently fit, it must 
stand investigation : but, I hope that it will, at all events, be judged 
to possess so much of aspect , as to apologise for a Man’s having 
amused his heavy hours by following it. 

SECTION II. 

When the Hypothesis first occurred to me, completely formed, it 
certainly appeared to embrace the government of contending sets of 
Affections with remarkable analogy of physical Motions ; but, at that 
early stage of inquiry, I had no thought ©f the minute component 
processes of Sensations ; and, of course, no thought that an Hypo¬ 
thesis of Undulations would be requisite; far less that such Hypo¬ 
thesis would naturally result from, and even be suggested by, the 
Hypothesis of a Spherule. 

The conception of mental Undulations, we see, has, however, 
followed, as a physical consequence of a Spherule Hypothesis; 
and I confess myself under the persuasion that they account, 


CHAP. XXVIII. 


HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


20a 


at least with seeming probability, for the processes of both synchro - 
chronous, and successive, Sensations, considered both in their conscious 
and physical effects. 

Certainly, I think, a Surface covered with extremely small distinct 
Undulations , accounts for the distinct Vision of a picture consisting 
of many features, much more probably than a mixture of all the Vi¬ 
brations over the whole medulla of the Brain; even if such Vibra¬ 
tions do actually so diffuse to give Sensations; which, from the 
known seat of Sensation, and the structure of the Eye, we have reason 
to believe they do not. At the same time, as a corroboration, we 
have reason to believe that the Retina, or end of the Optic Nerve, 
which receives all pictures, receives them by agitations, or Undula¬ 
tions, of its Surface, similar to the supposed Undulations in the Mind. 

Farther, the relative rapidity of visual Sensations, (answering so na¬ 
turally to the relative times that physical Undulations take to rise and 
fall, according as they are minute;) the above mentioned belief, 
that the Retina must be undulated by the matter of Light; and the 
co-incident fact that pressure on the Eye actually produces Undula¬ 
tions of Light in the Mind, increasing in Size and Light with in¬ 
crease of pressure, is doubtless very remarkable. In recapitulating 
which, we are also struck by the relative rapidities of Visual, and 
Auditory Sensations, answering to the relative gravities of the physi¬ 
cal impulses of Light, and Air. 

The Interest of succession, in all the Senses; (and which is so im¬ 
portant in that of Hear,) is another prominent circumstance; because, 

it is a fact in Consciousness which I think will not be disputed; and 

m m 


260 


ESSAY ON 


:hap. XXVIII. 


is accounted for so naturally on the Hypothesis of Undulations , and 
their changes. 

In the conduct of the inquiry it must appear, that I first argued 
from the particular facts of the ordinary play of Affections, to a ge¬ 
neral Law which governs them (that of Interest:) and then, having 
formed the Hypothesis of a Spherule , and applied it to this Law , I 
afterwards found it give (as it were, spontaneously) the Hypothesis 
of Undulations; which appears to apply so well to the most minute 
operations of Sensation , in all their varieties. 

Notwithstanding these analogies, no person could have viewed 
this matter throughout with more inclination to question it than I 
have done; and yet, I am obliged to think the appearances very 
imposing, after having evolved themselves in the manner thus no¬ 
ticed. 

In pronouncing upon the Hypothesis, different Men will be in¬ 
fluenced by different considerations. 

With Materialists, who are now so numerous in the world, the 
question between a cerebral and a spherule Hypothesis, is merely 
a question of physical probability ; and, I think it rests upon the 
following grounds. 

The Brain exists , but it cannot account for distinct intelligences by 
general diffusion ; and farther, it does not appear to be so employed 
in forming Sensations, nor is its whole Substance the seat of Intellect. 
On the contrary, the Nerves form the most complex notices in their 
respective Trunks; of which Vision, by the Retina, and Optic Trunk, 
is a conspicuous instance. And, all Intelligences take place at that 


chap, xxviii. HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


267 


small region where the impulses conveyed by the Senses, meet , as at 
a center , before any general diffusion can take place. 

On the other hand, a Spherule , reciprocating by mean of an Undu¬ 
lating Surface , accounts for all conscious Operations; and, for the 
co-operation of Mind with the Body ; but we have, and can have, 
no other evidence of the existence of a Spherule Mind: this being, 
perhaps, the best evidence which the nature of the case admits. A 
Spherule Mind, however strongly it may be indicated, cannot be 
imagined a possible object of Sense; therefore an Hypothesis , sup¬ 
ported by facts , is all we can have for it. 

The Materialist, then, has here his choice between two physical 
Hypotheses; but, beside their physical claims, there is between 
them this inf initely great distinction , that if Brain can be supposed 
Mind , then Mind is nothing but a Mode , and is no real Being. But a 
Spherule distinct from Brain , supposes Mind to inhere a Substance , 
and consequentlj r , that it has permanent existence. 

With those Immaterialists who hold, that nothing can Act but 
where it is, I should hope the Hypothesis of the locality , or Extension , 
of the Mind, will meet no objection on general ground. At the same 
time, I am aware how ad venturous an attempt it is to speculate at all 
upon a definitive shape , under which Mind can exist and operate. 

It must be expected that any conception of the kind will be 
viewed with great distrust, and incredulity ; and, I doubt not, in this 
view it would, at first, have been questioned by any of those great 
Men who held for mental Extension, indefinitely. 

I am fully aware, on this ground, how much I lay mself open to 


268 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XXVIII. 


criticism, and to ridicule, insomuch, that I consider it the best proof 
of my motive that I cliuse to abide the result, in the hope of being 
useful, even if it should be only as the forerunner of more successful 
attempts in search of a distinct Mind. 

The prejudice to be encountered in this case, in the opinion of 
many Immaterkdists, is certainly great, but, after the utmost 
effort, it must be submitted, that all those who have held for an ex¬ 
tended immaterial Mind, from Newton, and Clarke, downward, 
held, in other terms, for a Mind possessing Figure, and operating 
physically. And, every Man who reflects for a moment, will admit, 
that to shrink from Figure , after admitting Extension , must be more 
ridiculous than the most extravagant Hypothesis of a figured Mind, 
that can be invented. 

If then, Mind hath Figure and Motions, it hath some particular Fi¬ 
gure and Motions: and, to speculate upon these, if they are indi¬ 
cated physically , though we should be a thousand times wrong, is 
surely as allowable, and rational, as to speculate upon any other sub¬ 
ject not cognizable by the Senses. 

It is to be observed, I have not meddled with either Essences , or 
Causes, as proper questions: all I have done is simply to place con¬ 
scious and physical facts side by side, and to argue from the analogy 
betwixt them. 


SECTION III. 


In prosecuting this subject, I have laboured under disadvantages 
so peculiar and extensive, as might, perhaps, fully excuse every 


chap, xxviii. HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


269 


score of failing, but cannot exempt me from the charge of presump¬ 
tion. I have, therefore, to offer every apology; and, particularly so 
to those learned persons from whose opinions I have ventured to 
dissent. It may be some extenuation, that in such dissent I am not 
singular. 

As to the subject itself (bating the presumption) my amusement, 
whatever be its success, has certainly been accompanied by my ap¬ 
probation. 

Man’s own nature, “ his frame, his duty, and his expectations,”! 
form, doubtless, the most noble subject of contemplation ; and, though 
men who are continually engaged in active pursuits, may be hurried 
along without much attention to it, I cannot imagine how any one 
who enjoys occasional leisure can exist without turning his thoughts 
to enquire how his Mind operates, and what is possibly indicated in 
his feelings, and actions. 

The pursuit of Natural Knowledge of every kind, is a laudable 
curiosity, and fascinating, even in those minute and trivial depart¬ 
ments wherein we can scarce keep sight of immediate utility. How 
much more attracting ought to be the investigation of the pheno¬ 
mena of Consciousness : and, how strange it so frequently happens, 
with those, even, who have a turn for inquiry, that of all the Insects 
that creep, Man thinks last of questioning how he, himself, moves; 
and how actuated. I confess it has appeared to me so much more 
nobly interesting, and elevated, than the generality of pursuits, that 
no disadvantage has been able to deter me from following it. 

To think, and to offer our thoughts, I am aware,"are very different 
things, and may have opposite merits. In offering mine, I have been 


270 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP. XXVIII. 


actuated, solely, by a hope that they may operate beneficially in 
calling attention to considerations, which I believe are hitherto unno¬ 
ticed in the processes of Consciousness. 

My desired object in putting forth the spherule Hypothesis , is in the 
result to promote good, and prevent evil, by its feeble suffrage, in fa¬ 
vour of opinions which tend to make men happier here, and should make 
them deserve happiness hereafter, under the consideration that they 
have Minds adapted to permanent existence , and a Power of Volition , 
both which doubtless fit themfor, and render them , accountable Beings. 

In this view, we all know that our hope depends on discharging our 
duties , which are toward God , and our neighbour. 

Throughout it has been my first concern, that in seeking truth I 
should neither fail myself, nor mislead any other to fail, in either of 
these duties; and, nothing would sooner give me reason to suspect a 
dereliction of Understanding than a discovery that my opinions ran 
hostile to the prevalent good in Creation. 

If the wholesome mixture of physical evil , which appears to fall 
partially ; or, in moral agency , if the short triumphs of crimes, un¬ 
scrutinized and unpunished, could tempt us to the folly of doubting 
Providence, the most virtuous, judging from undeserved sufferings, 
might be most wicked in their judging. But, our views of the grand 
scheme of Nature, however inadequate, can never be limited by a 
Horizon so contracted. 

For my own part, in every physical, and moral, seeming impro¬ 
priety, I perceive nothing but a stronger indication, or assurance, con¬ 
joint with Revelation, that we are here in a state of trial; and shall 
have our deserts. And, if these deserts were awarded on the spot, 


ciiap. xxviii. HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS. 


271 


I should be in mere reason inclined to take it as an indication, that our 
existence would cease with our organic Structure. 

Contrary to this sad conclusion, and impressed with a persuasion 
that I was made essentially capable of existence hereafter, in a state 
of greater intelligence, perfection, and happiness, I look up to the 
expanse of Heaven, as a glorious Temple; and, whilst my heart beats, 
can never want an altar whereon to place the daily offering of gratitude. 

I should not presume to obtrude such sentiments as these upon the 
reader, who, probably, is gifted to teach me, by both precept and ex¬ 
ample, but that it stands directly in my subject: and, in such a 
case, the cool, and otherwise decorous, language of Philosophy, would 
fail to convey an avowal of belief, which I cannot properly contem¬ 
plate without a glow of peculiar and ineffable Sensation. 

I do not pretend that such impressions, though always known, 
have always operated to the extent that they ought. The mean vic^. 
Hypocrisy, is certainly far from me; and I would not for a moment 
be mistaken as pretending to observe a Sanctity not usualy nor often 
sincere, in the ordinary walks ©f miscellaneous life. Through a che¬ 
quered and tempted lot, all that I have been able to preserve is Hope 
in divine Mercy, so that my pillow grants me sweet repose, and 
my waking hours yield the precious reflection that I have “not sworn,” 
nor schemed, to deceive my neighbour. 

But, if my individual comparative imperfection were greater than 
self-love may suffer me to perceive, still this could not in the least 
lessen the acknowledgment I, prostrate, offer to the great Giver of 
Life. And, coming from an equal in infirmity, it should but the 


272 


ESSAY ON 


CHAP, xxvnr. 


more impress other weak mortals, like myself, and stimulate them to 
an undeviating regard of that accountableness which, I have endea¬ 
voured to shew, must be the end of Man's existence here ; and, for 
which, this inquiry labours to prove, his thinking Principle is natu¬ 
rally adapted. 

In the gross of Human kind ,few err from deliberately doubting a 
superior Power, but most do so, rather, from doubts cast upon their 
own future existence and its consequences : owing to which, they act 
for the present time, in defiance oi justice. This they will, perhaps, 
be less given to do if they shall arrive at a physical assurance that 
they must he permanent and accountable; because crimes are pre¬ 
vented not so much by extent of possible punishment, as by unques¬ 
tioned conviction of its certainty. 

To conclude with regard to the question of fact , (whatever infer¬ 
ence , or Hypothesis, may be derived from this fact:) I have, from 
the beginning, purposed to show that the Human Mind governs Af¬ 
fections in strictly a similar order to the government of Flexures in a 
flexible Sphere endowed with a Power of distension. And, with 
humble deference, I think it appears to be so. 


THE END. 


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